


Snowday

by FinaFee8



Series: Carry On SnowBaz [3]
Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-14
Updated: 2018-12-30
Packaged: 2019-08-23 18:01:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 24,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16623779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FinaFee8/pseuds/FinaFee8
Summary: Simon has a bad mental-health day so his friends - Baz and Penny - try to cheer him up and give him the best day possible. A "Snowday".





	1. Chapter 1

**Simon**

When I wake up, it’s still dark outside. I don’t know how late it is. I could reach for my phone, which lays on the desk next to me and look up the time but I don’t. I don’t care how late it is. I just stare at the dark ceiling and try to calm down. I try to breathe. I pant for the cold air from the open window.

 I still sleep with an open window. Even if I’m not afraid of burning anymore. I can’t go _off_. But I dreamt about it. Again.

 My body is full of sweat and I’m shaking. Shivers run over my back like a waterfall. Like a hot waterfall.

I don’t know where my blanket is. I guess I pushed it away while dreaming. I don’t remember what I dreamt but in the end, I went _off_. Like always.

 After a few minutes, I can breathe normally again but I still can’t close my eyes. I just can’t. And while I lay there, alone in my dark room, I start to think. I think about Christmas. About Baz. About College. About Penny. About magic. About the Mage. About Watford. About Ebb. About the Humdrum. About Watford. About Baz. About magic. About magic….

 Burning tears run over my cheeks. I don’t know why; they’re just there. Just like this sting in my stomach. And this heaviness in my head – in my mind. This is the reason why I usually don’t _think_. It only brings all the things to the surface you’re worrying about. All the things you can’t have. All you lost. All you miss. All the feelings you usually try to block out. Because they hurt like hell and you can’t change anything. They just make you burn.  

 On my first day at Watford, I was afraid of the last. I was afraid of the day when I had to leave Watford. Because I loved to be surrounded by magic. To _be_ magic. Well, I didn’t know I would ever make it to the end. I mean, I was the Chosen One. The great hope of the world of mages. My destiny was written. And then everything changed...

 I wasn’t the answer; I was the problem. From the very beginning. And now I’m … I don’t know. What am I? I have no more magic. No more written destiny. I’ve no more purpose. There isn’t a plan for me. There’s just me…

 Sometimes I have these days. These thoughts. These days with these thoughts which devour my mind. And then I can’t see any light – any light at the end of the tunnel. Because there’s no tunnel anymore. There’s just me. But I know there’s a light. I really do. Because I’m free and I can do whatever I want. There are no high expectations for me anymore. I don’t have to fight and win the war. I don’t have to control my magic anymore…

 Sometimes it’s hard to see those lights. For these moments I created a list. A list of everything that’s worth it. Everything that carries me on. It’s not like that I have to remember myself of the sense of life every day. No. I _am_ happy. Really. In all my dreams I’d never thought I would survive this war and live happily ever after with the people I love. But sometimes I fall back into this black hole. Like the one, I fell in after the Mage’s death. After Ebb’s. After I found out I was the Humdrum. After I lost my magic. I guess it was Baz who helped me to climb out of it. And Penny of course.

 Anyway. Every time I fall back into this hole, I get out this list:

 

_No. 1: Baz_

 He should be really proud of himself that I didn’t set Sour Cherry Scones on the first place. Because they’re worth it. But Baz… He’s a reason to carry on. I think I wouldn’t have carried on at all without him. After all this mess last year. And I need him to carry on in the following. I really do.

 

_No. 2: Penelope_

 I need Penny. I just need her. I think there’s nothing more to say.

 

_No. 3: Magic_

 Even if I have no more magic inside me, there’s still a lot of magic around me every day because of Penny and Baz. Sometimes it makes me sad. Because I’m not like them. I can’t even feel the magic. But often it makes me happy. Because it remembers me that it’s still there. That I’m not a Normal. I’m still a part of this magickal world. That’s one of the reasons I keep my wings anyway. Because it remembers me of what I used to be. What I was able to do. It makes me _magic_.

 

Before I even get to the fourth point on my list, there’s a knock on my door. For a moment I wonder who would dare to wake me in the middle of the night, but then I recognize that the sun has started to rise. It’s almost day outside. How long did I lay here? It’s knocking again. I’m sure it’s Penelope. She’s not a late riser. (So, me neither.)

 “Simon?” she’s shouting through the door. “Are you awake?”

 I don’t answer. I don’t want to get up. At all.

 “You really should,” Penny says with a loud voice. “It’s almost nine. You have to get into a healthy rhythm again. Only two days till school.”

 I press my face into my pillow and wait for her to leave. But then she bursts through the door.

“You’re awake!” she complains and puts her hands on her hips, standing in front of my bed. “Why don’t you answer me?”

 

 

**Penelope**

 

 Simon sits up and shrugs. He looks bad. His eyes are swollen and his skin is pale and sweaty. Like always, when he had one of his nightmares and laid the whole night awake, thinking about _everything_. He’s wearing a black T-shirt (I guess it’s one from Baz) and grey flannel pyjama bottoms from Watford. (I’m sure he still would wear his uniform at day if this wouldn’t bring up too many memories.) His wings hang wearily on his back.

 “Are you okay?” I ask softly, even when he obviously isn’t. It’s one of those bad days.

 “I’m fine, Penny,” he grumbles and turns away from me. They are rare but they exist. The bad days. When he’s in this deep hole again.

 I sit down next to him. “Do you want to talk?” I ask unsure. I always don’t really know what to say when he’s in that bad mood. Should I act like he’s okay? Or let him alone? Or try to talk to him? I’m quite sure he doesn’t know either what helps him.

 Instead of answering, he clings his fists into his hair and shakes his head.

 “Should I go? Or call Baz? Can I do anything for you?”

 “I’m fine,” he says more roughly this time but without looking at me. “I just…need to think.”

 “Maybe you should –”

 “Shit, Penny!” he interrupts me. “I’m good. I just slept bad, okay?” He lets go of his hair and looks at me with tired eyes. He looks so fucking tired.

 “Okay,” I mumble and clear my throat. “Then I leave you alone.” I get up. “Just …take a shower.”

 I shut the door behind me and rest the back of my head against it. I hate these days. I always feel so helpless. He’ll be grumpy for the whole day and won’t talk to me. Neither to Baz. What would be okay. I completely comprehend it, when he sometimes needs time to think. To grieve. But I don’t think it does him any good. He just hurts himself and gets depressed. He falls back in that hole. Last time (a few weeks before Christmas) we needed days to get him out of it, Baz and I. That was a rough time.   

 

 I give him one hour. One hour to get changed and out of his room. But he doesn’t. When I come in the second time, he lays in a coil on his bed. I can’t see his face but he probably doesn’t even recognize me.

 “I made tea,” I say. “Do you want some?”

 He doesn’t react.

 “I even made a second breakfast. But I won’t bring it to you. You have to get up when you’re hungry.”

 “I’m not hungry. Thanks, Pen,” he mutters into his pillow.

 “Simon, I know you for almost nine years now and I know you’re always hungry. Especially in the morning. Come on. Eat something.”

 He takes a deep breath.

 “Please,” I add.

 “I. Am. Not. Hungry,” he hisses at me and finally turns his face in my direction. He looks even worse than the hour before. His eyes and nose are red and his lips tremble a bit.

 “Okay,” I say slowly and nod. “I’ll call Baz.”

 He wants to complain but I’m already back in the kitchen and grip my phone. I search for Baz’s number and call him. But this moron doesn’t answer. So, I text him.

 _“Pick up your phone!!”_ I write. Only a minute later he answers.

  _“Can’t. I’m in class. Why?”_

_“Simon. He isn’t well.”_

_“?”_

_“He won’t leave his bed. Guess one of the nightmares. Won’t stop crying.”_

_“I’m on my way!”_

_“Thanks. Bring scones!”_

_“I’m there in ten.”_


	2. Chapter 2

**Baz**

 

 I tell my professor I feel sick (I was dying out of boredom anyway), then I leave the campus as fast as I can. When Bunce calls me, it’s bad. Really bad.

 I’m not sure if I can reach him – I wish I could. But he locks himself away on days like these. And then after a few hours (or several days sometimes) he’s back to normal. The optimistic, clumsy Simon Snow. Like nothing happened. And he won’t really talk about the bad time then – after it’s over. I have to admit that I don’t really like to ask him either. Maybe he needs to pretend that he’s fine to be _fine_. If that makes sense. And I don’t want to hold him back. But I also can’t watch how he falls over and over again. How he thinks that he’s worthless. A Normal. That he only brought bad for the magickal world. That it’s maybe even better that he lost his magic, because like this he – I quote – _can no longer hurt anyone._ I always try to persuade him. Tell him that it isn’t true. But I’m not sure if he’s even listening. But I will do it anyway. Every single time. Until he believes me. He has to. Someday.

 On days like these, I regret everything I said to him over the years. All the bad things I said to him. Because they maybe make it worse. It was just teasing and spitting, but I always assured him that he’s a _disgust_ _to the world of mages._ That he’s _the worst chosen one who’s ever been chosen_. He knows that I don’t think like that anymore – that I never really had but anyway, sometimes words get stuck. And they come up again – on days like these. He won’t confess it to me, but I think he still remembers them. Thinks about them.

 I will try it again today. Try to convince him that he’s not the monster he thinks he was. (Maybe he _was_ the Humdrum but it wasn’t his fault, was it?) I will tell him that he doesn’t need his magic to be magickal for me.

 I make a stop at a Bakery and buy a dozen of scones. (Unfortunately, they don’t have any with sour-cherries. But normal ones with butter will work, too.) At the end, I need over thirty minutes to get to Simon’s and Bunce’s flat. (The traffic is a catastrophe in London downtown.) I ring at the door, although when I got my own keys. Simon gave them to me because he hated it, to have to unlock the door every time I’m standing in front of the house – which happens a lot. It’s rare that we’re at my flat. But I’ve got one. An own flat. But it’s the one of Fiona, so it doesn’t really feel like mine even if she’s in Prague. It kind of feels weird to be there with Simon, so we always meet here. In the small but cosy flat on the fourth floor.

 The door unlocks and I almost run up the stairs. Bunce leans against the open door and gives me a reproachful look.

 “Ten minutes are long passed,” she says as I walk past her into the living room/kitchen.

 “I drove as fast as I could,” I counter sneering.

 “You could’ve spoken the roads free,” she responds shrugging.

 “I’m here.” I get out of my jacket. “So stop complaining.”

 “He won’t talk to me. He just stares at the ceiling. I guess it’s worse than last time. He isn’t even hungry.” She follows me while I unpack the scones and put them into a bowl. I pull my wand out of my pocket and speak **Some like it hot** like Simon likes them the best.

 “I assume he was awake the whole night. Probably plagued with nightmares. They’re mostly the reason why he falls again.” She leans next to the fridge while I search in it for the butter. “We have to do something, Baz. This has to get better. Soon.”

 “I know,” I say and place the butter and the scones on a small tray. “But he has to want it. And the last time he didn’t really look like he wanted us to _do_ something. We’re here for him. I guess that’s all we can do.”

 “Yeah, but –”

 I make her shut up by shoving a scone into her mouth. “I try to talk to him, okay? Then we will see.”

 She wants to complain but has to chew the scone. I switch through the door, insides Simon’s room before she finished. With the tray in one hand, I knock at the doorframe.

 “Good morning, Snow,” I say and lean against the frame, waiting for him to answer. He lays with drawn-in knees and his head between his shoulders on one corner of his bed. His wings surround his back and his tail entangles around his legs. He’s shaking a bit. Bunce was right. It’s gotten worse.

 “Anyone here?” I ask as he doesn’t react. “Or do I have to eat these amazing scones all by myself? Wow, what a lucky kid I am. Maybe I even eat the whole butter. With a spoon.”

 I make a few steps in his direction. He finally moves his head around.

 “Don’t talk to me like I’m five,” he grumbles.

 “Hear hear! He speaks.” I grin at him. He doesn’t. His face is drawn from exhaustion and grief. His hair sticks to his forehead and his eyes are dull. It breaks my heart seeing him like this.

 “Scone?” I ask him, place the tray on the bed and sit down next to it. He glances at them but doesn’t seem really interested. It was worth a try.

 “How late is it?” he asks confused and sits up a bit so he hasn’t to overstretch his neck anymore. Now I see the deep shadows under his normally blue eyes, which look barely blue anymore. Just all puffy and dark.

 “Almost eleven,” I answer.

 “You have to be at school! It’s your first day after the break today.”

 “I don’t have to be anywhere but here right now.” I remove a few curls out of his face. It’s hot and sweaty. Can you get a fever because of worries? Perhaps.   

 “I don’t want you to skip school because you think you have to care for me like for a little child. I’m fine.” He shakes his head and avoids my gaze.

 “I just worry about you,” I say softly.

 “You don’t have to. Neither has Penny. But like you, she won’t listen.”

 “Simon, you look like a wreck. How could we not be worrying?”

 “For Snake’s sake, I just had a bad night! Sorry I’m not looking gorgeous every day!” He turns his head away from me and stares in the opposite direction. I take a deep breath.

 “Had you one of those nightmares?” I ask carefully.

 “I’m still not five, Baz. I can handle a bloody nightmare,” he mutters and buries his head in his hands. “I’m fine.”

 “You’re the most honest person I know, but right now you’re a terrible liar, Snow. It won’t get true by repeating. You won’t make me believe if you keep assuring you’re fine. You’re not. And we both know. So, get over yourself and talk to me.” I touch his shoulder and he lets me. “Let me help you. Please. Tell me what’s eating you.”

 “You want me to be honest?” he whispers gloomily, his face still hidden behind his fingers. “Then first be honest with me.”

 “I’m always honest with you,” I respond confused. “Why shouldn’t I?”

 “Are you?” He looks up. His eyes are swimming in tears. “Because you told me that I’m still the hero of the story, remember?”

 “Of course. And it’s true.” I let my hand drop from his shoulder. I guess I know what he’s driving at.

 “You said to me that I’m still the Chosen One. That I don’t need my magic to be _me_.”

 “I did. And I still believe it.”

 “But what if you’re wrong? What…what when you just want to pretend that I’m still me? Because otherwise, it would hurt. Because I’m not what I used to be.” He shakes his head. “I’m not full of power. I’m not the one you fell in love with. This Simon is gone. And he wasn’t even the hero. He was the monster. _I_ was the monster, Baz. The supervillain!” He doesn’t speak loudly, but his words are sharp and fiery. “And now I’m not like that anymore. And…and I’m not even sure if that’s good or bad. Because…because on the one hand I can’t destroy the world of mages anymore – and that’s pretty damn good!”

 “ _Simon_ –”

 “No, let me finish! Because then, on the other hand, the reason you loved me is gone. I know you’ll say I’m wrong, but you can’t deny it. Because all I was then was _magic_. And now...now I’m not! I’m…I’m just a weird boy with a fucking tail and wings! I mean…who wants that? That’s just disgusting!”

 “ _Simon_ …” I don’t know what to say. He stares at me with these sorrowful eyes and a trembling chin. Waits for me to say something. How can he think like that? Am I such a fool in being a boyfriend – in making him feel beloved? Doesn’t he believe me when I’m saying what he means to me?

 “You want me to be honest?” I say slowly and I have to stand up because I…I just can’t sit right now. I rub my hands along my trousers.

 “The truth is, I can’t hear that anymore, Simon. I don’t _want_ to hear this anymore!” I press my palms on my now burning eyes. “Because I’m sick of it. Because it’s not true. It’s _not_ true! I told you. I told you several times.”

 Simon sits slumped on the mattress and his eyes follow me while I run up and down in front of him.

 “I love you,” I say desperately. “ _You_. Not your magic. If I would do so, why haven’t I just dumped you right after the Mage’s death? Why did I defend you in front of my father? Why am I here then?!” I throw my arms in the air. “If I really only fell in love with your magic, then I would’ve left you right away. But I haven’t. Because it was just a part of you – not the whole _you_. So, when I say I love you, I mean Simon, the boy who’s sitting in front of me and not his power he used to have. For Crowley’s Sake, I never loved anybody more than you! Why can’t you see that?”

 He looks to the ground and I’m not sure if I really reached him.

 “So, would you please stop. Just…stop it! I never want to hear you saying all this crap again!” I exhale and run my hands through my hair. Tears streak down Simon’s face. I kneel in front of him and take his hands in mine. They’re shaking.

 “And _of course_ , I miss your magic. But only because _you_ miss it. It hurts like hell to watch how it paralyzes you.”

 His fingers clench desperately around mine.

 “You have to believe me. What can I do to make you believe me?” I lay my hand on his cheek and force him to look into my eyes.

 “And you’re _not_ a monster,” I add softly. “You’re not more a monster than I am one. You could never hurt anyone on purpose. And I know how it feels. How it feels to think you’re a monster – that you’re bad, but you’re not. _We_ are not. You said this to me, remember? So, neither are you!”

 He bites on his bottom lip and closes his eyes. His tears burn hot on my cold hands. I just wish he would stop crying. I just wish he would stop hurting himself with these doubts.

 “I just wish you would believe me,” I whisper and squeeze his trembling fingers. He swallows and opens his eyes but they don’t meet mine. They look so muzzy.  

 “I do,” he says tonelessly. “I do believe you.” His voice breaks. He scans my face but skips my eyes. “But…sometimes I just…can’t. Everything creeps over me and I…question everything…”

 “But you don’t have to question _me_ ,” I answer with a soft voice. “ _Never_.”

 He keeps staring at a point next to my lips.

 “Okay?” I ask and clasp my fingers around his wrists. He swallows again. Then he finally dares to look straight into my eyes.

 “Okay.” A single tear runs over his cheek. I catch it with my thumb. Then I lean forward and kiss gently his forehead.

 “Maybe not everything is alright at the moment,” I whisper. “But we are.”

 This makes him break. His head slumps against my shoulder and his whole body gets overwhelmed by sobs. I sit down next to him and wrap both arms around his torso. Tug him closer to me. He clenches his fingers into my shirt and presses his face on my shoulder. Calmly, I stroke with my hands over his trembling back. His wings hang down like flabby rags.

 I know why it’s different this time. Why it’s worse. Because now it’s one year. One year ago, everything ended. And everything started. The last days were full of Christmas feelings and other problems – like my family. But now all this turmoil is over and the past strikes back. All at once. And this made him fall again.

 “It’ll be alright,” I mumble softly and lay one hand on the back of his head. I feel his tears on my skin. “You’ll be alright, okay? I’m here. I’m here for you.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Penelope**

 

I’m too nervous to sit down, so I wander around the kitchen and wash cups and plates which are already clean. I remove a few clothes from chairs and the floor and bring them to their right places.

 I don’t want to eavesdrop on them, but I stop several times in front of Simon’s room and try to listen. I only hear Baz’s voice. He sounds so desperate. I hope Simon’s listening to him. He has to.

 I don’t know how much time has passed when the door finally opens. Baz shoves Simon over the doorway. He’s still in his pyjamas and his face looks flushed. (In view of the fact that there is a wet spot on Baz’s shoulder: He cried. A lot.)

 “Do you want to eat breakfast or take a shower first?” Baz asks him with one hand on his shoulder, with the other one he carries the tray.

 “Shower,” Simon mutters. He glances at me for a second, then looks away like an ashamed kid. He clears his throat and disappears into the bathroom. Baz exhales.

 “How did it go?” I ask him.

 “Well, we talked,” Baz answers and rubs his chin. “And I guess the worst is over. But…I don’t know.” He falls on a chair next to the kitchen table. He places the tray with the scones on it and takes one of them.

 “You got him out of his room,” I say and sit down on a chair next to him. “That’s at least something.”

 “Yeah.” He bites into the scone and I can see his fangs. It’s always a bit disturbing – but I get used to it.

 “And now?” I grip for a scone, too. “What are we gonna do _now?_ ”

 Baz shrugs. “Shove a few scones into him and then get out of this sticky flat.”

 “And you think this will work?”

 “It has to. I won’t let him play grumpy all day.”

 “Maybe I have an idea,” I say chewing.

 

 

**Simon**

 

The cold water makes me feel way better. It makes me feel like a human being again. When I finished the shower, I get back into my pyjama. (Because I forgot to take new clothes.) (And I don’t feel like leaving bed today.)

 I stare into the mirror at my reflection. I really look bad. Like I haven’t slept for days and cried for hours. (What I can’t really deny.)

 After Penny’s visit, everything just got worse. She interrupted my list which normally helps me out of this downward spiral. And after she was gone, I forgot about it. Instead, I started thinking again. And worked myself completely up into all my doubts. I don’t _want_ to do this. I _hate_ it. I especially hate to doubt Baz. And I know how much he hates it. And it isn’t fair what I do to him. Because he gives me no reason to doubt his feelings for me. Quite the contrary. But I do it anyway. I can’t really stop it. Just like I can’t stop thinking about myself as the supervillain. The fallen supervillain.

 I take my toothbrush and start to clean my teeth. But I more chew on it than I brush.

 Baz held me until no tear was left. He kept assuring me that it’s okay. That I’ll be okay. And I believed him. At least for the moment. Because I know I will be okay. It’s every time like this. After a bit of time passed, I’m fine again. These strong feelings – the fear, the doubt and the guilt – are gone. Like they never existed.

 I’m sitting on the edge of the bathtub, still brushing my teeth (even when there’s no more toothpaste left) and count the tiles on the floor to distract me from my uprising thoughts. But I have to start all over again because they are so tiny. When I’m at 73 the third time, Baz tears the door open. I wince and nearly choke on the toothbrush.

  _“Fuck, Baz!”_ I croak coughing.

 “I just wanted to know if you’re still alive. You’ve been in here for over half an hour,” Baz says grinning and frowns at me while I’m hanging choking over the washbasin.

 “I’m not sure I am,” I grumble in a hoarse voice as I finally can breathe again.

 “Come on,” he says and pats me on the back. “We’ve plans for today.” I clean my mouth with water and clear my throat, then he shoves me into the kitchen. Penny’s sitting at the fully laid table and smiles at me that broadly that it looks frightening. Baz leads me to a chair, makes me sit down on it, and places the bowl full of scones in front of me. He’s also smiling like he’s possessed. (I can’t smile at all. My face feels too numb.)

 “Simon Snow,” Baz says with a dramatic voice, “herby I permit you to eat all scones by yourself and the whole butter with a spoon. Congratulations.” He takes a spoon from the table and shoves it into my right fist. I glance at him with lifted eyebrows.

 I know that all this is just a try to cheer me up, but I’m not really up for it right now. But I also see their worries behind their Cheshire Cat smiles. And I don’t want to hurt Baz more than I already did today. I don’t want to get Penny any more anxious than she already is. And that’s why I join in. Why I play along. (And maybe I also do it because I’m so frigging hungry.) So, I eat a few of the scones and a bit of the butter while they are watching me like parents watch their baby the first time eating.

 “I’ve been thinking,” Baz says after a while. He sits at the end of the table – between me and Penelope. “And I think we should go out today. The three of us.”

 “That’s a great idea,” Penny says and it’s more than obvious that this is just a show. Of course, they worked that dialogue out before. “It has been a long time since we did anything together outside this apartment.”

 “What do you think about it, Snow?” Baz cocks an eyebrow at me.

 I just shrug. (I don’t want to go out. And he knows. They both do.)

 “I’ve heard this will be one of the last snow days,” he says and points out of the window. Snowflakes stick to the pane. “So, we should enjoy London covered in white one last time, don’t you think?”

 “And in a few days, Simon and I have to go to university again – we shouldn’t waste our last free time by sitting around.” Penny sips her tea and squints at me.

 “Right,” Baz says. “And I signed up sick. We got the whole day.”

 “Is there anything you ever wanted to do, Simon? Like a ride in the London Eye or something like that?” Penny asks me.

 I shrug again. (No, there’s absolutely nothing I want to do today. And she knows that.)

 “Just let us get out of here and then we see where it leads us.” Baz gets to his feet, moves behind my chair and kisses my neck. “Who knows, maybe this will be one of the greatest days of your entire life,” he mumbles smiling.

 I groan and cling my fingers into my hair. “Baz, I really don’t –”

 “Stop complaining and get finally dressed,” he interrupts me and pulls on my arm to get me up. “You can’t go out like this.”

 Penny jumps around the table and takes my other arm and together they shove me in front of my wardrobe.

 You can’t really resist when the two of them want something from you. I have no other choice but to give in – they would make me do it anyway. But I still don’t make it easy for them.

 “Are that all your clothes?” Penny asks in disbelief while she rummages through my wardrobe. Because I said I don’t know what to wear, they shoved me aside and now they both start inspecting my drawers.

 “No, they aren’t,” Baz sneers. “The half of the shirts are mine.” He grabs a grey sweatshirt. “There it is! That’s one of my favourites, Snow!”

 “Sorry?” I mumble while I lean against my desk and watch how they analyse my clothes. Penny counts my Watford jumpers and Baz picks out all his pullovers and T-shirts. Almost nothing’s left when they finished.

 “You stole half of my wardrobe,” he complains and throws one of his shirts into my face. I catch it and throw it back to him.

 “I didn’t steal them,” I counter. “You forgot them.” And sometimes I help a bit. “You can have them back if you insist,” I mutter grimly.

 “Then you wouldn’t have anything besides your – by the way _also_ stolen – Watford clothing.” He frowns at the mountain of red and green jumpers which Penny assorted neatly on the floor.

 “I know what we do today,” she says nodding and eyes her work. “We go shopping and buy new clothes for you, Simon.”

 I moan loudly and fall on my chair. “Is that really necessary?”

 “Yes.” She jumps to her feet. “You’re nineteen, Simon. You need to buy your own clothes!”

 “I already bought a suit,” I moan and rest my head on the desk. “Isn’t that enough?”

 “You can’t walk through London downtown in a suit, Simon!” Penny responds and puts my Watford jumpers properly folded back into the drawers.

 “I wouldn’t mind. He looks stunning in it,” Baz laughs. Penny sighs.

 “Simon, get dressed! And then we go shopping. End of discussion.” She closes the drawers and stomps out of the room.

 “Come on,” Baz says and hands me his grey hoodie. “You can keep it if you want to.”

 “I don’t –”

 “You do,” he cuts me off and smirks. “And I kind of like it when you wear my clothes.”

 I just groan and roll the shirt around my arms. (It’s one of my favourites, too.)  

 “Now let me cast away your dragon parts and then get changed.” He pulls out his wand and I shuffle slowly next to him.

 “But don’t use **There’s Nothing to** –”

 “I know, Snow. I’ve got the new one from Bunce.” He taps my wings with his wand and speaks **“I’m a Tiny Tiny Thing”**. They shrink to such a small size that it’s easy to hide them under a shirt. Penny and Baz are constantly trying new spells to hide my wings. Some of them work, some don’t. It’s even more difficult with the tail. For some reasons you can’t shrink it, so they just can speak it invisible and I have to tug it into my trousers. I hate it.


	4. Chapter 4

**Baz**

It’s a struggle, but after a bit more than a few minutes, Simon is finally dressed in my hoodie and a pair of black jeans. His wings and tail are hidden and I spoke his wet hair dry. He keeps running his hands through it while I slip into my coat and search for his. (For an unknown reason he’s unable to move and just sits on the kitchen table, so I’m forced to dress him like a child. I don’t mind.)

 “It’s very cold outside,” Bunce says while she wraps a huge, colourful scarf around her neck. “You should at least wear a warm hat. And gloves.”

 “I won’t –,” Simon starts grumbling, but I already shove his hands out of his hair and pull a red hat over his head. (It’s self-made by Bunce.) (I’ve got one, too.) (For Christmas.) (I don’t wear it.)

 “Where’s your coat, Snow?” I ask him.

 “Heating,” Bunce answers. Her head is now hidden under a big green hat. She looks like a ball of wool.

 I take Simon’s coat from the heating and throw it to him. He slides from the table and gets into it.

 “Do we need snacks?” Bunce runs past me and opens the board over the kitchenette. She finds biscuits and shoves them into her backpack.  Simon stands in the middle of the room now – wrapped in his coat and in striped socks. He looks like a child which got lost at the airport. 

 I move behind him and lay my arms around his waist. “Maybe you should wear shoes,” I mumble and rest my chin on his head. He leans against me and closes his eyes.

 “Baz, I’m really not in the mood for a shopping tour,” he mutters tired.

 “It’ll be fun,” I say. “You’ll see.” I have to place my feet new to keep balance because he slumps against me like he’s even to weak to stand. “I know how you feel. Really,” I whisper softly. The wool of his hat tickles on my chin. “But I also know that sitting around won’t help. You have to free your mind.”

 “I know,” he sighs. “But –”

 “Boys!” Bunce yells, which makes Simon stand straight again. I turn my head and frown at her. “Get into your shoes so we can finally go! Great Snakes…,” she says and shakes her head. She leans, fully dressed and packed, against the entrance door. I let go of Simon, he takes his shoes and a few seconds later we walk down the stairs.

 “I think,” Bunce starts, she’s walking in front of us, “we should take the tube. The traffic is pure hell, so, we’re much faster when we drive underground.”

 Consequently, we run, five minutes from that, through the overcrowded underground station. Bunce complains about the bad signposting, Snow looks even more like a sad and lost child, and I try to find the right connection. I don’t know how, but eventually, we make it into the right line.

 “Do you have any wishes to which store you want to go, Simon?” Bunce asks while she’s already eating one of the biscuits. (We just ate breakfast?!)

 Of course, Simon only shrugs. He and Bunce are sitting in front of me. Next to me sits an old woman, who stares creepily through the window. (We’re underground. There’s absolutely nothing to see.)

 “All I know is that we won’t go into one of your dirty second-hand shops,” I say instead.

 “Why not? I found my best pieces there!” she complains chewing. “And the clothes there are diverse and cheap.”

 “And disgusting.”

 “Oh, shut up, Agatha,” she hisses at me.

 “You never know what the people did with the clothes before. Where they wore them.”

 Bunce rolls her eyes. Snow stares at his hands.

 “And I don’t want Simon to smell like a stranger,” I go on.

 “Better than smelling like chemicals,” she counters. “And anyway, we have to fight the consumer society.”

 Now I roll my eyes.

 “I’m serious,” she says and places her elbows on her knees. “We produce clothes like a disposable commodity. Do you know how many tons of clothes are produced annually?”

 “Indeed, I do,” I answer. “But my boyfriend is running out of clothes and so do I, because he has the habit of stealing mine. And this is probably the first and last time we go shopping this year. I won’t feel guilty for this inevitability.”

“Alright,” Bunce says shrugging. “You’re the one who will live till the earth transforms into a huge dump because of our unsustainable consumption.”

 Simon’s lips curl. The first time this day.

 

*

Because I accepted to live my far away future inside a dump and Simon didn’t complain, we end up in a huge and modern shopping centre.

 Neither of us has ever been here before, so we just run into the first store that comes along. Bunce moans because she thinks it’s too expensive, but I just ignore her and Simon sits on the fence anyway.

 He falls on the first sitting opportunity he finds and rips off his hat.

 “No no no no no!” Bunce pulls him up again.

 “Please, Penny,” he mutters as he stumbles behind her. “I need a break. And I’m bad at picking clothes anyway.”

 “You’re always bad at picking, Simon,” Bunce says. “You can’t even decide which type of ice cream you want to eat.”

 “You see!” he responds while I shove him after Penelope through the aisles full of clothes racks. “I’m completely lost in this gigantic shop.”

 “We’ll help you,” I say. “We are your personal style advisers.”

 Snow groans and buries his fists in his coat pockets. Bunce starts digging through a pile of T-shirts. She picks a few and throws them in Snow’s arms. He inspects them sceptically while Bunce runs to the next board. I follow her hastily and rip a few of her already collected shirts out of her hands and throw them back on the piles. Instead, I grip for two other ones and give them to Simon. We walk like that through the whole store. Bunce picking shirts, me putting them back and pick new ones, and Simon is just trying to keep up with us while he slowly vanishes under a mountain of clothes. After we explored every corner, we lead Simon into a changing room. He’s still groaning and grumbling, but he finally gives in and flits behind the curtain. I sit down on a black leather couch and exhale. (There are not that many people here. What’s good I think. It only would stress Simon even more.) Bunce sits down next to me and eats one of her biscuits.

 “Do you think he will keep anything?” I ask her.

 “He has to. Otherwise, we just buy them. There are a few really cool pieces,” she answers while chewing.

 “I want one, too,” I say and hold out my hand.

 “What?”

 “A biscuit.”

 “You don’t eat in public,” she says surprised.

 “Just give me one of these bloody biscuits, Bunce.”

 She hands me one and I eat it with a hand in front of my mouth. After a few minutes passed and my fangs already vanished again, I yell at Snow to get out of this cabin and show us his first outfit. He shoves the curtain aside and steps out of the changing room. He’s wearing a black shirt and his hair is all tousled. He squints nervously from one side to the other.

 “ _Crowley_ ,” I say and bump my arm against Bunce’s. “Do you see him, Penelope? Is that _the_ Simon Snow?”

 “I’m not sure,” she says and rubs her chin. “He looks so different.”

 “Yeah. I only know him in his muddy school uniform or _my_ clothes.”

 “Smoke and Mirrors,” Simon groans. “Knock it off!”

 “I’m not sure if we can,” I sneer. “I’m too stunned by this sight.”

 “So am I. There are no words for it,” Bunce answers with exaggerated enthusiasm. It makes Snow sigh.

 “You two are such idiots,” he mutters and walks back into the cabin.

 “Love you, too,” Bunce shouts grinning as he pulls on the curtain.

 She eats another biscuit. Me, too.

 “Hey, can I help you?” A blond young woman suddenly stands in front of us. She smiles like these girls out of a toothpaste commercial. I guess she’s a shop assistant.

 “We just try to find new clothes for our friend,” Bunce says and points at Simon’s closed cabin. “He’s a bit…difficult in terms of shopping.”

 “Oh,” the girl laughs. “I’m used to it. I’m sure we can convince him.”

 “We actually don’t need –,” I start when my fangs finally vanished, but right in this second, Simon steps out of the changing room again. He smoothed his hair a bit and wears a blue T-shirt – which looks great on him by the way. Confused, he stares at the girl. And she stares at him. With big eyes and blushing cheeks. _Crowley_ …

 “Hi, handsome,” she says and gives him one of her commercial grins. I roll my eyes.

 “Hi,” Simon responds frowning. Then he seems to remember being polite and smiles. (It’s actually a sad excuse for a smile.)

 “I’m Evie,” she says. “Let me help you with picking your clothes.”

 “Okay,” he mumbles and glances at me for a second.

 “This T-shirt looks already awesome on you. It fits your eyes.” She tugs at his sleeve and neck which makes Simon look uncomfortable.

 I just clear my throat and hide a grin behind my hand.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a quick thank you to every reader! <3

**Penelope**

We _could_ help him. I could tell the girl that we don’t need help. But even if I would, I don’t think she would leave. She obviously has an eye for Simon. _And_ I don’t really want to miss this. Baz and I exchange glances while Simon looks a bit overstrained because the girl – Evie – moves a bit too close around him. She has blond long hair and wears a nice but very expensive looking blouse. I guess she’s in her early twenties.

 We _should_ help him. I mean, we’re supposed to cheer him up, not to make it worse through a pushy shop assistant. But maybe it does him even good – when he’s forced to talk, he’ll maybe get out of this silent mood.

 “Why don’t you try another one?” Evie says and glances at the mountain of clothes in his cabin. She picks out a white T-shirt and holds it in front of him. Simon grabs it and moves back into the changing room. Meanwhile, Baz sits with crossed legs and arms on the couch and observes the girl carefully. She leans next to the cabin now and looks at me – completely ignoring Baz. When Simon steps out again, she turns to him and smiles brightly.

 “ _Wow_ ,” she says and Baz clears his throat again, smirking. I have to hide a giggle by imitating a cough. “You look gorgeous,” Evie goes on.

 “Yeah, I’m already swooning,” Baz mumbles sneering and grimaces. Simon frowns at him. I desperately try not to grin. But then I spot something in the mirror behind him.

 “Oh no,” I cry out and jump next to him. I shove the totally confused Simon next to the wall and lay an arm around his back, trying to look relaxed. Baz and Evie look at me like I’m crazy.

 “This,” I say, tugging at his T-shirt, “this is too…too tight. Yeah… Nope. Way too tight. And…err…the colour. Doesn’t fit his skin tone, does it?”

 “Well,” Evie says and comes a step closer. I push Simon a bit farther against the wall. “I don’t think it’s too tight. And …”

 “No!” Baz jumps to his feet. He finally got it. “It’s horrible. Totally ugly!”

 Simon wrinkles his nose at him. _He_ still doesn’t get it. Instead, he opens his mouth to complain, but I tighten my grip on his shoulder to make him shut up.

 “Why don’t you search for another one, Evie,” I say with a sweet voice. “Maybe a darker colour.”

 “And a larger size,” Baz continues nodding and directs her to the clothes racks. She’s still confused but leaves, her glance shooting curiously over the three of us.

 “Merlin, Penny! What was –,” Simon starts as soon as Evie is out of hearing range. Baz immediately bursts into laughter.

 “Your wings, Simon! They are visible through the thin white cloth,” I whisper while I’m shoving him back into the cabin. Baz (still giggling) already has slid his wand out of his sleeve. (Typical. The arrogant twat. I mean it must be super uncomfortable having a stick in your sleeve just to show off. In those cases, I’m glad of having my ring.)

**“There Is Nothing to See Here,”** Baz speaks and tips with his wand against Simon’s tiny wings. Simon sits down on the bench next to the pile of clothes and sighs.

 “Do you want my assistance, Snow?” Baz asks him with raised eyebrows.

 “I’m an adult, Baz. I know how to dress myself,” he answers grumbling.

 “That’s not what I meant,” Baz replies right in the second Evie comes back.

 “I found a new one,” she says smiling. “Want to try it? Maybe this will suit your girlfriend better?”                                                

 “Oh, no,” I respond hastily. “I’m not his girlfriend. Actually –”

 “You aren’t? My mistake.” The smile on her face grows. I wait for Baz or Simon to spit it out, but neither of them says something. Baz just swallows (to suppress a giggle, I’m sure), steps out of the cabin and closes the curtain in front of Simon.

 Are we mean? I don’t know. I mean Simon clearly doesn’t even really recognize the _interest_ of the girl. He’s still all locked up in his head. Maybe this will wake him up a bit.

 

 

**Baz**

 

I act like I’m checking my mobile while Evie starts scanning Snow again after he’s ready with changing.

 “You really can wear everything,” she says and tugs at the hem of the grey T-shirt. “Do you train?”

 Simon blushes (maybe he finally gets it) and I have to cough. Bunce chews on one of her biscuits.

 “Thanks, but no. Not really,” he answers sheepishly. I feel how his eyes shoot to me. I wink at him.

 I can’t really explain why, but this whole scene is priceless. Maybe I will make a big show out of it – but not yet. I want to see how far she goes and how long Simon stays so quiet. Maybe it isn’t the nicest thing to enjoy his suffering – especially not today, but therapy hurts sometimes.

 “By the way,” Evie says and twists one of her curls around her finger, “what’s your name?”

 “I’m Simon.”

 “What a beautiful name. Fits you.” She laughs and Snow tries to smile – his cheeks are almost as red as her lipstick. “Why don’t you try this nice jacket to this shirt, Simon. It’s pretty cool.”

 She hands him a dark-red hooded jacket. He slips into it and it really looks kind of cool.

 “Indeed, it is,” I mutter and wiggle with my eyebrows.

 “I like it, too,” Bunce agrees and shoves the next cookie into her mouth. Her lips curl uncontrolled. She’s always so unable to keep a straight face. Just like Snow. (Pathetic.)

 “What do you think, Simon?” Evie asks him nicely. He turns around to the mirror and stares at his reflection.

 “It’s okay, I guess,” he says and rubs the sleeve between his fingers. “Comfortable.”

 This makes Evie laugh. It’s gross. “So, you’re the casual type,” she chuckles. “My favourite, too.”

 I have to blink. She obviously _isn’t_ the casual type. She’s wearing high heels and very tight jeans. This girl makes me want to puke.

 “Just out of curiosity, do you live here? In London, I mean,” she asks not just out of curiosity.

 “Yeah,” Simon responds slowly while he bounces on his feet. “I do…actually. Together with Penny…and Baz. Kind of…”

 Isn’t he cute when he’s all shy and nervous? Maybe I should finally help him.

 Evie moves around him again (too close of course) and rearranges his jacket. “So, you’re often here?”

 Or maybe I wait just _a bit_ longer.

 “No. It’s the first time I’m here.” He rubs his hair and his glance jumps through the room. “But it’s nice…here.”

 She laughs again. “You have an excellent taste. You should come here more often.”

 Simon just nods sheepishly while he kneads the hem of his jacket. (So adorable.)

 “Simon,” Bunce says with a soft voice to cut this awkward silence. “Why don’t you try this green jumper I chose for you? It kind of remembered me of our…uniform. I think you’ll love it.”

 “Okay,” he mumbles and steps back into his cabin.

 “I’ll be right back,” Evie says smiling and touches Simon’s arm – which makes him shiver – before she closes the curtain. Then she rushes away.

 For maybe one or two minutes, the only noise is Bunce’s chewing. (I bet she already ate half of the biscuit packet.) But then I hear a soft sniff out of Simon’s cabin. And I only hear it because of my vampire ears. I lean a bit forward and peek behind the curtain.

 “Are you okay?” I ask softly. Simon is sitting on the bench, his head hanging down, and in his hands, he’s holding a small piece of paper.

 “Are you alright?” I ask again and slip completely inside the cabin. He shrugs.

 “I just want to go home, Baz,” he whispers while he crumbles the piece of paper.

 “What’s that?” I point at his hands.

 “Nothing.”

 “Well, it nearly makes you cry, so it’s not _nothing_.”

 “I’m not crying,” he hisses at me and wipes with his sleeve over his eyes. “I’m just tired.”

 “What is it?” I repeat. He sighs but he hands me the note. I unfold it. Then I start laughing. “She gave you her number? Crowley Snow, you’re such a womanizer!” I have to lean against the mirror. “Wow, that’s awesome!”

 “That’s embarrassing,” he counters as he jumps to his feet and snaps the note out on my hands. His eyes start swimming again. “Baz, I can’t stand that today. I’m so… _done_.” He shakes his head like it’s too heavy to carry.

 “Hey, where’s the other boy?” Evie is back. I hear Bunce coughing. (Evie really has to think we all got the flu or something – all this coughing.)

 Simon flinches and looks at me with painful eyes. “Please make her go away,” he whispers so only I can hear him. “Or let us just leave. I don’t… I can’t…” A tear runs over his left cheek. I want to kiss it away. I do.

 “It’s okay, Simon,” I mumble nodding. “It really is.” And then he falls into my arms or I pull him into my arms – I really don’t know. It doesn’t matter anyway. What matters is that I press him against my chest and he presses his face against my neck and while we stand there in this embrace, I fumble at the curtain and rip it open.

 “It’s okay,” I say again. Louder this time. “It’s okay, Darling. I know it’s not your day.”

 And there we have it. The big plot twist for our cute Evie. If she had a tray in her hands she would drop it, I’m sure. It would have fallen in slow-motion while she’s staring at us. Completely stunned. I have to keep down a smile. But I can’t keep it down so I cover it by kissing Simon’s neck. He doesn’t even recognize her. He just clings his fingers into my coat and let me carry all his weight. But that’s okay. As long as he is okay, everything is.


	6. Chapter 6

**Penelope**

 

Baz squints at Evie and sneers. He really seems to enjoy this whole scene. (Of course, he does. I can’t decide whether it’s cute or not.) Simon’s face is completely hidden on Baz’s shoulder. He looks like he’d shut out everything around him. Maybe we demanded too much from him. Maybe we should’ve just accepted that it’s not his day today.

 Evie still stares at Simon and Baz, and she still seems to process the new information. I have to admit that I feel kind of sorry for her. She must feel really stupid.

I clear my throat. “I think…I think you should go,” I say softly and smile at her. She blushes and turns her eyes away from the boys.

 “Yeah,” she mumbles. “I probably should.” She tries a smile and wants to leave. I hold her back. “But I really like your shirt,” I say. “It’s…pretty cool.”

 She just nods and then she runs away. Probably wishing that the ground will open and swallow her.

 

 

**Simon**

 

I could fall asleep. Right here. Right now. In Baz’s arms. I’m _so_ tired. All I can do is close my eyes and bury my face in Baz’s shoulder. And I block out everything around me. Forget about that girl and that we are in public. And I’m sure, if Baz didn’t hold me, I would fall to the ground – and fall asleep right there.

 I also want to cry. I don’t really know why, but this whole situation – this whole day makes me want to cry. When I found this note in the pocket of the jacket, I wished I could just pass out. Vanish. (And cry.)

 Of course, that isn’t my normal reaction to situations like this one. I’m not always a complete fool in interacting with people. But today…today I just can’t. I can’t deal with it.

 After a bit time passed, Baz shoves me away from him and takes my hands in his. He leads me to the couch where we sit down. One of his arms wrapped around my shoulders and his one hand holding mine. Penny hands me a biscuit (with chocolate chips) and sits down next to me. She leans her head against my shoulder and eats one of the cookies. We rest like this for a few minutes. In silence. Chewing our biscuits. People running around us. I nearly fall asleep again, but Baz pokes me every time I close my eyes. He and Penny start joking and teasing each other while I just listen and draw circles on Baz’s palm.

 It can hardly describe it, but I kind of feel like I’m in a huge cotton ball. Everything seems far away and can’t really reach me. Faces and voices seem to blur and I don’t feel the ground under my feet. And the only thing which connects me with the outer world and which feels real is my circling finger on Baz’s hand.

 Eventually, they both get up again and crouch over the pile of clothes. They pick all the pieces I already tried and even a few which they think will fit me. They don’t even bother to ask me for my opinion. (I would’ve shrugged every time anyway.) When they finished, Penny runs to the checkout to pay for them. In the meantime, Baz pulls me up from the couch, forces me to get changed into my own clothes again, and then he directs me to the exit. For a brief moment, I think they give in and we drive home, but instead, they shove me into the next store. They would never give up that easily. Of course not.

 “The fun has just begun,” Penny yells grinning and jumps through the aisles. She finds a board full of hats and teases Baz by capping him with them. This leads to a hunt through the whole store. They scream and laugh and some people are watching us strangely. I just kind of stick to Baz, clutching his hand. And it doesn’t seem to bother him. Rather the opposite, because he uses every opportunity to kiss my cheeks or my forehead. I can’t complain. And at some point, it even makes me smile a bit.

 

 This time they pick clothes for me and for their own, too. I even get the offer to dress them both like I want. And I do. Like I wouldn’t use this unique chance.

 And while we run like this through the store, picking funny outfits for another – Penny kind of dancing and Baz all clingy – I actually start to have fun. It still feels like I would watch the whole scene from a distance, but for the first time today, my mind is free.

 “Maybe,” Penny says while she digs through a pile of reduced jumpers, “we should go into this pub later. You know, the magickal one.”

 “A _magickal_ pub?” I ask confused and grip for one of the jumpers. It’s blue and has a big snowflake print on it. I kind of like it.

 “Yeah,” Penny answers, inspecting a red shirt. “The one in Camden Town. Do you two never go out?”

 “There’s a _magickal_ pub in Camden Town? I didn’t even know that there were _magickal_ pubs in general,” Baz says frowning and sits down on the board the jumpers lay on.

 “You didn’t know…?” Penny sighs and shakes her head. “Are you two living in a cave? For your information, a magickal infrastructure _exists_ – at least a bit. And – “

 “Snow, no!”

 “What?” Perplexed I look up, unsure what I’ve done. Baz rips the snowflake pullover out of my hands and examines it in disgust.

 “You don’t _really_ like this one, do you?” he asks me sceptically. “That’s gross.”

 “It looks comfy,” I reply and snatch it back again. “And it’s on sale.”

 “That’s remaining Christmas trash. The things nobody wants to have,” he counters with a wrinkled nose.

 “Just a minute ago, you seemed very interested in this Rudolf shirt there,” Penny says sneering.

 “Only because I searched for something embarrassing for _you_ to try,” he responds and throws the shirt into her face. She insists the urge to throw it back.

 “But when Simon chooses one of those, he will _actually_ wear it,” Baz goes on. “And this is gross.”

 “It’s just a jumper,” I defend myself. “Calm down.”

 “It’s a jumper with your printed name on it.” Baz narrows his eyebrows. “That’s –”

 “Kinda cute, though,” Penny says grinning.

 “It isn’t my name, actually,” I say. “There isn’t the word _Simon Snow_ printed on it. It’s just a _snow_ flake.”

 “Potato, potahto.” Baz slides from the board and walks around me. He takes the jumper out of my hands and holds it in front of me. “Even Evie wouldn’t like that on you.”

“Who?”

 “Evie? The nice girl who just gave you her number?” He lifts one eyebrow.

 “Why do you remember her name?”

 “Why do you not?”

 I want to snatch the jumper, but he hides it behind his back. “Give it to me,” I say unnerved.

 “Nope.”

 “But I like it.”

 “You don’t.”

 “I do.”

 “Well, then _I_ don’t like it and that’s practically the same. Because after all, I’m the one who has to look at you in it all day, so...”

 “Then just don’t look at me anymore,” I say and try to grab the shirt again. He doesn’t let go of it. “Problem solved.”

 “You can’t do this to me.” Baz moves a step closer and locks eyes with me. “That’s torture.”

 “Blame yourself.”

 “I’ll leave you if you buy this,” he responds, coming closer.

 I shrug. (Trying hard to keep a straight face.) “I don’t mind.”

 “You break my heart, Snow,” he says, his nose almost touching mine. I can’t stop my lips from curling.

 “It’s my pleasure,” I mumble grinning. He laughs, then he leans forward to kiss me, but before his lips are touching mine, his face jerks back and he turns around. “What the hell, Bunce?!”

 Bewildered, I stare at Penny, who holds her phone in front of us like she’s taking a photo.

 “What’s that about?” Baz asks disturbed.

 “Oh, that’s nothing,” she says without looking up from her phone. “Just keep going.”

 Baz snorts and tears the phone out of her fingers. She tries to catch it back but Baz is much taller than she is – and much faster.

 “You really were going to make a photo of us?! _Kissing?!_ Crowley, what’s wrong with you?” Baz shows me her phone with the open camera.  
 “Penelope?” I say and frown at her. She sighs and snaps her mobile back.  

 “I was just gathering evidence,” she explains herself. But it doesn’t explain anything to me.

 “ _Evidence?_ ” Baz raises his chin.

 “Evidence for Agatha.”

 My jaw drops. “ _Agatha?!_ ”

Penny groans, probably about our slow brainwork, before she starts talking. “She still doesn’t believe me that you two are actually a couple. I told her that we would never ever make this up but she wanted proof. And because photos of the two of you grinning into the camera wasn’t enough – she really suspected me having photoshop skills, I mean, _Merlin!_ – she demanded a photo –”

 “Of us _snogging?!”_ Baz interrupts her roughly.

 “Exactly!” Penny grins. Baz doesn’t. I just…stare at them. Thinking about Agatha thinking about me and Baz. _Weird_.

 “That’s sick,” Baz complains, still holding the blue jumper in his hands which he unconsciously is whirling around his arms. “You two really should find new hobbies. We are not just here for your entertainment. And you can’t just take a shot of us without permission!”

 “Nicks and Slicks, calm down,” Penny huffs, exasperated. “I’ll tell her you two are too prude for it. Happy?”

  “You’ll never tell her that,” Baz sneers. “You will creep behind us and use the first chance to get you evidence photo.”

 “True,” Penny says shrugging and takes a flash photo of Baz. He blinks groaning and sits down next to me. I don’t remember how and when, but somehow I ended up sitting on the board where Baz just sat a few minutes ago. My legs are still so frigging tired.

 “Still wanting this?” he asks me bored, holding up the pullover. I nod. He exhales and shoves it to me. “Here. It’s not that bad, to be honest. It’s really fluffy.”

 “I told you,” I say smirking and want to lean my head on his shoulder, but Baz jumps right up because Penny positions her camera in front of us again.

 “Oh, suck it up!” she moans.

 

We visit the changing rooms again and we all try funny outfits – even Baz, who normally would never play along with something like this. Penny laughs all the time and Baz tries not to. And even I am giggling a bit.

When we finished and I’m dressed in my own clothes again and got back into my shoes, Baz suddenly sneaks inside my cabin.

 “What –,” I start but he already turns me around and pulls me into a long kiss. For a moment I just stand there, with closed eyes – getting lost. Then I manage to sling my arms around his waist.

 “Hi,” he says grinning when we break.

 “Hi,” I mumble back.

 “It just occurred to me that we hadn’t really kissed today, so I thought we should quickly change that, don’t you think? Not to mention the minor of the fact that Bunce can’t shoot us in here.”

 I laugh. It’s a real, snorty laugh I forgot I was able to.

 “Did you really just laugh at me?” Baz teases me smirking.  “Where is my all grumpy and pouting Simon?”

 I roll my eyes, then I lean into him and our lips meet again.

 “If you two are snogging inside there, I swear I will take a photo and send it to Agatha!” Penny’s voice shouts through the curtain like an alarm clock which throws you out of a dream.

 “You know,” Baz mumbles on my lips, “your roommate is _really_ annoying.”

 “Yeah,” I sigh and open my eyes again. “Roommates are the worst.”

 “Yes.” Baz nudges his nose tip to mine. “Totally gross. You always have to endure the breath-taking sight of them. You can’t sleep properly because you have to stare at them permanently. That really sucks.”

 “And you always have to be concerned that they are plotting something against you,” I say chuckling, while Baz kisses all the moles on my face.

 “Like feeding you to a chimera,” he says, his lips on my cheek.

 “Or luring you into the woods and force them to save their life by kissing them. Totally sucks!”

 “If you two are not coming out of there in three seconds I swear I will make a live video of you and send it right to California!”

 “The worst,” Baz groans and kisses me one last time before we step out of the cabin and get back to reality.


	7. Chapter 7

**Baz**

 

I hear Bunce chatter about something she started to talk about ten minutes ago but I don’t listen. I actually haven’t the slightest idea what she’s babbling about.  I keep staring at my phone, try to find the way to this cryptic pub, because Bunce sense of orientation is lousy and Simon doesn’t even have something like this. At least not today, because he’s constantly complaining about the long way and every time we make a wrong turn he puts the blame on me. And because Snow’s whining and Bunce’s babbling at once are too much, I just switched my ears off a couple of minutes ago. So now, I run in front of them – in the one hand my phone, in the other one Simon’s hand – and lead us in a zigzag through the streets.

 “I don’t think this is the right way,” Simon growls the fiftieth time as I take a corner and am about to cross the street. The traffic light turns red abruptly and if I hadn’t had his hand in mine, Simon would just go on and get hit by a car. He stumbles back and starts to complain about the unequal treatment of cars and pedestrians and the lack of crosswalks. Bunce immediately joins in. I ignore them and try to understand this stupid app, which is supposed to lead me the right way, but nothing is there where it should be. Nevertheless, I still have to admit how relieved I am that Simon speaks again. I mean he’s still grumpy – but that’s just normal tired and freezing Simon. Maybe his breakdown at the store really tore one of his walls down he built around himself this night. This morning I honestly haven’t thought this would be possible...

I try to concentrate on the streets again, but these freaky shops with their odd facades that are typical for Camden Town look all identical and at the same time completely different. When we crossed the street and I still haven’t the slightest sense of orientation, I give up.

 “Let’s just use this goddamn orientation spell,” I say and stop walking. Bunce almost runs into me. “This app is total bollocks.”

 “My word!” Simon moans fretfully while he clings to my arm. (He always does this when he’s freezing, even when I’m not any warmer.) “Why use _magic_ when you want to find a _magickal_ place? But no, only morons would come up with this dim-witted idea.” He pokes my shoulder. “ _No_. We make our lives complicated and forgo a **This way, please**.”

 “Only because we want to prove you that we can navigate ourselves without using magic,” Bunce responds impatiently and rips my phone out of my hand. (I scowl at her.) “And so do you.”

 “Okay wait,” I say and try to snap my phone back but she moves a step away from me and I can’t really follow her because Simon sticks to me like I’m his warm heating. (Which I’m not. I’m a vampire. I’m _cold_.) “I’m pretty much the only one here who is _navigating_. _You_ don’t even try to orientate yourself!” I hiss at Penelope.

 “Well, obviously you both can’t,” Simon mumbles and grabs my now free other hand and uses it to warm his own ones. It only works because my recently removed phone was overstrained and hot.

 “Merlin, I hate this dependence on electrical devices,” Bunce mutters – ignoring me – while she compares the street name on my phone with the one we’re standing at. On the basis of her facial expression, I’m sure it isn’t the same one. “Why couldn’t we just use a normal map. Like one out of paper.”

 “ _Why_ ,” Simon replies – now even leaning against me and trying to warm his cheeks with the heat of my hand, “couldn’t we just use _magic?_ ”

 I groan loudly and lean against the wall next to me, which forces Simon to stand by himself again. But suddenly something moves behind me. Hasty, I jump back. And for real, where I touched the stonewall, materializes a door. Right above it a sign with the word _Pub_ on it.

 “Nicks and Slicks!” Bunce almost drops _my_ phone. “That’s it! The pub only reveals itself if you prove you are magic. Why haven’t we thought about that before? It’s so obvious.” She rushes to the door and presses her palms on it. Where she’s touching it, the blue wooden door gleams. I do the same and my hands start to sparkle, too. Immediately, I feel the magic rushing through my veins, filling me with life.

 I glance at Simon and for a brief moment, I’m really anxious that he can’t see it. That he stares at us this confused and unsettled, because he can’t see the door – can’t see the magic. But then he steps next to us and lays his hand on the richly ornamented wood. He can see it – Thanks, Merlin. I don’t know what we would’ve done if he couldn’t. But unlike ours, his skin doesn’t shimmer or shine. There’s no magic which is connecting – no magic which flows right through him.

 He swallows and slowly drops his hand again. But Penelope takes his in hers and pushes them against the door. The magic flickers around their fingers and it almost looks like her magic would run right into him. (But of course, it isn’t like that.) Together they push the door open and one second later we are surrounded by magic. It’s not only the feeling of the magic that is floating around you – like the feeling you always had at Watford. It’s also the fact that every corner is filled with something magickal. Even the number of tables and chairs seems manipulated by magic because you would never think that they would all fit here. But they do. And it’s so crowded that it should be loud and stuffy but it isn’t. The air has perfect temperature and instead of deafening chatter you only hear a relaxing buzzing of blurring voices.

 There are flying trays with the weirdest drinks and meals on it that I’ve never seen like this at Watford before, which transport the orders to their owners. One of them almost hits my head as I stand stunned next to Simon while Bunce already heads towards a table.

 The next thing attracting my attention are levitating lights all over the place, which change their colour according to the state of mind of the guest closest to them. (I recognize it because of a grey flame right next to sorrowful looking dwarf and a magenta one right next to a couple of witches which obviously is in love.) Just above Simon and me hovers a green flame. Maybe it expresses our excitement about this place. While we both still try to take this all in, Bunce waves us to a table in a slightly isolated corner.

 I grin at Simon, who looks like he loves this place just as much as I do, because his eyes sparkle in a way I haven’t see them for quite a while. There’s also something sad about it, which I wish I could swipe away, but I guess it’s inevitable – we can’t go to a magickal place without reminding him of his loss. I want to kiss his cheek to assure him it’s okay, but then he turns around and kisses me properly instead. I feel his smile on my lips before he pulls away and runs to Bunce’s table – pulling at my hand. I stumble after him – feeling a bit drunk of all the magic which roars like waves around me – and at this moment there isn’t even the slightest doubt that Simon isn’t a part of this world anymore. That this isn’t the place where he belongs. Where we belong.


	8. Chapter 8

**Simon**

 

 “I love this place!” I say and fall on the bench across of Penny, who already takes off her coat. The interior looks like an American Diner, mostly small booths for a max of four people with surprisingly comfy benches and some bigger round tables with a bunch of different old chairs in the back. It seems chaotic at the first glance, but the atmosphere is so cosy and warm – magickal – that I immediately feel more relaxed. The most relaxed since I woke up this night actually. I didn’t really like the idea of being surrounded by magic again, I was afraid it would hurt like the door that wouldn’t open for me. But the moment I stepped into the pub and saw the magic around me it was so real, I could almost feel it. Almost…

 But it reminds me again how great magic is, how beautiful it felt to be surrounded by surreal and fantastic things. It feels like Watford. And despite everything that happened there, Watford always was a home for me....

 Maybe I can belong here even without magic. I mean nearly every mage knows _The Greatest Mage_ , even if nobody knows what really happened in the night of the defeat of the Humdrum… of me… That I was the evil monster that divided the whole world of mages and triggered a war, of which everyone was afraid… I don’t think they would believe the whole story. I mean I still have no clue why it was me. Why I was the Chosen One to destroy and save them. I wonder what they think happened to the Humdrum... I wonder if anybody here will recognize me as _the_ Simon Snow…

 Baz slides next to me and interrupts my spiralling thoughts. I try to focus on the weird colourful lights over our booth. There are four of them, I don’t really get how they work. Maybe it knows our favourite colours? The one over Penny’s head glowing yellow-green (I think she likes green but always assumed her favourite colour was purple?), the one next to her just plain white. Above my head is a blue-grey flame that keeps getting lighter (weird) and the one next to Baz is pink (Now that’s a surprise! I thought he likes dark colours. Like black. Or dark green. But a black light would be no light, wouldn’t it?) That makes me smile a bit and my flame’s blue gets brighter. (Okay, I guess the favourite colour theory doesn’t make sense…)

 “I knew you would like it here,” Penny says beaming. She places her elbows on the table and props up her chin with her hands.

 “It’s even more magickal here than in Watford,” Baz says while he slips out of his coat. (I’m still freezing even with my coat on. I did never freeze that much like this winter. During my years at Watford, I’ve always just been burning because of my overflowing magic. Now I’m a real frostbite…)  

 “Exactly!” Penny answers excited and I need a second to catch up again. “That’s because the owners of this house are American. And as you know, the Americans have a totally different view to magic. They don’t only use it for handy and profitable things. They also use it because of its beauty. Because of the fantastic things you can create with it. Like this place.” She throws her arms in the air and grins broadly. “In America, there are tons of places like this. Micah showed them all to me.”

 “Why didn’t you show us this pub earlier?” I ask her. “It’s great.”

 She blushes a bit and knocks her head. “I wasn’t sure if you would like it here… You know, because you can’t _feel_ it like we do.”

 I just shrug and lean half against the backrest of the bench and half against Baz’s shoulder. It’s so comfortable, I could fall asleep. Baz tears down my woolhat I am still wearing and loosens my flattened curls with his fingers.

 “We should eat something, don’t you think?” he says exhilarated and the light above his head changes from pink to purple. Mine gets a purple touch, too. (Maybe it adjusts itself to your body’s temperature?)

 “Oh please,” I say and squint at the tables around us, which are covered with strange but incredibly delicious smelling food. “I’m already dying of starvation.”

 “Isn’t that just your general condition?” Penny taunts me grinning.  

 “Maybe you shouldn’t hang out with Baz that often anymore,” I say. “You already start mocking me like him.”

 “What?” Baz jaw drops. “I would never dare to mock my clumsy Chosen One!” Smirking, he bumps his shoulder against mine. “That doesn’t sound like me at all.”

 “Oh, I’m sorry. I must have confused you with my other boyfriend – the pretty one,” I tease Baz and pull a wry face. “And by the way, I’m not clumsy.”

 “You almost torched me with a candle on our anniversary, remember?” he says sneering. “That’s definitely definable as clumsy.”

 “Whatever,” I mumble. “Let’s just order something. How does this even work here?”

 “Oh, you’ll love it!” Penny points at a tray which is flying right in our direction. There are already three plates fully loaded with food on it. It stops right above our table before it lands between us.

 “But we haven’t even ordered yet,” I say frowning and stare at the undefinable meals.

 “There’s no need to order,” Penelope explains while she arranges the dishes. The porcelain gleams like the flames above our heads – Penny’s is now blueish-green, Baz’s a mixture of pink and purple and mine something between purple and a bright blue. I still see no sense in these colours. They are so confusing.

 “I don’t understand this,” I confess and turn my colourful plate around to examine and identify the food on it. There’s something that could be meat – maybe chicken? – and weird coils of different colours which I can’t categorise.  Some sort of vegetable, maybe?

 “It’s easy actually,” Penny says. “As you may have already recognized – these lights above you change their colour depending on your mood.”

 Well, that makes sense, I think while I nod in agreement like this was obvious to me. Baz doesn’t look surprised either – not that I thought he would. (I can’t help but grinning because Baz’s pink flame makes sense now...)

 “And,” Penny goes on, “the dishes are adapted to your mood – to the mood which the light identified before. Cool, isn’t it?”

 “Why hadn’t we that stuff when we were at Watford?” I say. “Not that I complain about the food there – it was awesome – but this would’ve been funny.”

 “That’s America, Simon,” she says already chewing. “They are much more creative than we are.”

 “But what if you want something that doesn’t sweet your mood?” Baz asks sceptically and digs with his fork through his food. It looks very similar to mine – way to colourful. “And why do these hippies have to dye everything? That’s not very appetizing.”

 “Stop crying and taste it,” Penny spits at him.

 “But seriously why has it to be so…fancy?” Baz eyes a few blue-red locks on his fork. “I’m not even sure if this is magickal. It could just be food coloured french fries.”

 I spike one of my green ones too and compare it with Baz’s. “I don’t really understand how these peculiar coils fit to my mood,” I say. “What even _is_ my mood? What does purple stand for?”

 “Shouldn’t you know it the best?” Penny asks. “I mean knowing in which mood you are?”

 I shrug. I was never good in describing my feelings.

 “I’d say I’m a bit high-spirited – so that’s what purple stands for, I guess. Because you are, too,” Baz deduces.

 “But how does this,” I lift my fork with the green curl between us, “fits to our _high-sprited_ minds?”

 “No idea,” Baz says shrugging. “But what’s even more interesting, what happens if your mood changes? I mean maybe you were in a good mood when you took place but then you taste this crappy food and are disappointed. Will your order change then, too?”

 “Great snakes! Why can’t you boys just eat?” Penny says exasperatedly, chewing on a roll which looks pretty normal in contrast to Baz’s and my order. I wonder what mood her turquoise is supposed to represent. Calmness?  Delight?

 “It’s not wrong to question this strange system of service,” Baz counters. For a moment I wonder if he hesitates with eating because he’s nervous about showing his fangs in public. Even when I think that anyone would hardly recognize it here.

 “Sometimes you should just accept things.” Penny shoves Baz’s plate closer to him to make him eat.

 “Says the right one,” he says. “Who is always starting to yell when something isn’t justifiable in regard to feminism or environment questions?”

 “God, this is just _food_. Only because it’s a bit strange –”

 “Let us just try it, Baz,” I interrupt her because I wasn’t joking about me starving. “It won’t be as bad as our anniversary dinner, will it?”

 This makes Baz laugh. I guess he was right with his high-spirited-deduction because I have to laugh, too. We can’t stop for at least a whole minute. Penny stares at us as if we lost our shit completely now.

 “I really hope these curls are supposed to calm you a bit down,” she mutters but she can’t hide a grin.

 “Well, this is even a whole new theory. What if they try to neutralize our moods with this service concept?” Baz starts and Penny buries her face in her hands, groaning. The flame above her changes to a light orange – probably fed up.


	9. Chapter 9

**Penelope**

 

 “I’m still suspicious,” Baz says while he pokes at his remaining chips. After a few bites, he and Simon managed to block out the weird colour and shape and realised surprised that these coils are just completely normal chips. Well, maybe not _completely_ normal, but anyway – they survived to eat them without _constant_ complaining.

 “What if they sneak drugs into their food and hide it behind all this fancy magic stuff?” Baz continues his conspiracy theory. “I mean, nobody would recognize it. Everybody will just think it’s the magic when they feel so relaxed and cheerful. But what if it’s drugs?” His fangs are already hidden again and I can clearly tell that he’s more relaxed now. I was really surprised that he ate in public at all. With his hand in front of his mouth but still. (Maybe the magic makes him a bit more self-confident.) (Because he isn’t that confident in general. Even when he always wants us to think he is.)

 “And _why_ ,” I ask frowning and lean against the backrest of my bench, “should they _drug_ us?”.

  “Maybe the magickal government of America wants to take control over Great Britain,” Simon suspects with his mouth full of green-blue chips. (It looks kind of unpleasant; like he would chew on caterpillars.)

 “With doped food in pubs?” I question unconvinced. “There has to be a more efficient way.”

  “Like taking charge over Watford. Like this, they could manipulate and control every magickal-educated being.” Baz places his elbows on the table. “At least this would be my way of working. Taking over the youth to control the future.”

 “You’re the real supervillain,” Simon mutters. “Not me. I never thought about how to take over the government. But you’re already plotting again…”

 I roll my eyes. Some things never change. But Baz just ignores him. The flame above his head has taken a bright blue colour, which confirms his totally slackened and chatty mood. (Maybe I was right and the meals a really supposed to calm you down. Even if I don’t think it’s drugs.) Simon seems also very relaxed. He finally got rid of his coat and his face is flushed again.

 “If you would do so, you could manipulate our assortment of spells,” I construct Baz’s plan farther. “And this could actually change a lot. If you don’t teach the youth how to use their magic right, you could really slack the British magicians much power.”

 “Like I said: If you want to take control over something, start at the beginning,” Baz responds. “Reduce the available capabilities. Then you have the power over the future.”

 “The Americans would get higher educations as we would and make more progress in magickal science – if there’s such a thing – and politics. Then Great Britain couldn’t compete anymore in the international magickal business. And _boom_ – America has us under their thumb.” I take a sip of my glass of water.

 “You should warn your Mum not to let anyone from the States sneak into Watford, Bunce. This could be the end of our free kingdom.”

 “Weren’t we just talking about poisoned food?” Simon asks confused and licks his lips. “How did this become a masterplan to take control over Great Britain?”

 “Right. The drugs,” Baz starts again but I can’t listen to it a third time so I try to look around and watch the other guests. There are a few really strange beings. Several dwarfs that look like they try to close a deal but it’s obvious that it isn’t that easy. They shout and throw their arms in the air. I’m glad that I can’t really hear them – this could be really loud and annoying. There is also a group of pixies and for a second, I’m sure I saw Trixie under them but they’re so many and look all so similar. (Their tables and chairs are all covered in pixie dust. _Gross_.) I really wonder what Trixie is doing now after Watford. If she’s still together with her girlfriend?

 “Anyway,” Simon says and pokes with his finger in Baz’s cheek. “It’s already too late. You’ve eaten up everything – the drugs are already in your system.” He wrinkles his forehead and grins wryly. “Maybe they’ll turn you into a giant mutant and make you destroy whole London.”

 “Crowley, just imagine a giant-vampire-wizard-mutant. I would be invincible!” Baz gives him a crooked smile and takes Simon’s hand to cross his fingers with his. Quietly, I search for my phone in my pocket. I’ve seen this a hundred times, I know where this leads to and I don’t want to miss my chance.  

 “Aren’t you already?” Simon replies grinning and the baby-blue over his head gets a slight rose touch. “I think there’s almost nothing that can make you fall.”

 “Well, but you did,” Baz says softly and my brain is really struggling whether this is super cute or just way too cheesy. But what can I say – I’m used to it.

 Simon chuckles kind of adorable and then – _surprise!_ – they kiss and both of their lights turn pink. This’ll be the perfect picture! Quickly, I raise up my phone to finally get my evidence photo. But as soon as I opened my camera, I see Baz’s hand which isn’t holding Simon’s move and he speaks – still hanging at Simon’s lips(!) – a **That’s mine** , which rips my phone out of my fingers and makes it jump into his wand-holding hand. He catches it without turning his eyes even for a second from Simon.

 This bloody bastard. How can he manage to kiss, consider me trying to take a shot, cast a spell and be a good catcher at the same second?! (Simon is probably right. Baz is fucking invincible. At least almost. I’m way better than he is at chess.)

 “Tell Wellbelove,” Baz mutters when he pulls away from Simon, “she can go screw herself and find another couple to stalk. Or maybe even an own boyfriend. So we can have our normal life back!”

 “If you just let me take this _one_ picture,” I say, “you could have it back right now!”

 “Not this again,” Simon groans and buries his face in Baz’s shoulder.

 “Why can’t she just buy it?” Baz complains and narrows his eyes. “I mean, I told her by myself and you said you explained our whole love story in detail to her. Isn’t that enough?” He looks at my phone. It’s still unlocked. I try to steal it back but the table is too broad and my arms are too short. (That’s kind of our thing. Stealing the other one’s phone. I slowly but surely get tired of it.)

 “Why do you have to be so oversensitive?” I counter. “You normally haven’t a problem with showing affection in public either. Why do you have to struggle so much because of one stupid photo?!”

 “I beg your pardon,” Baz says. “ _Showing affection in public_ – those are your words, not mine – and _this_ ,” he holds up my phone, “is something totally different.”

 “It’s not!”

 “He just doesn’t want to give you this satisfaction,” Simon mumbles at Baz’s shoulder. “It disagrees with his highest law: Don’t let Bunce win. Ever.”

 “Thanks for your assistant here, Snow,” Baz responds and wraps his left arm around his back. Simon snuggles into this half hug and looks like he could fall asleep immediately.

 “No problem,” he whispers smiling and closes his eyes. Automatically, I have to smile. I have never thought that he could get that relaxed today. Not after this awful start. But this place really seems to do him good.

 “I would even be satisfied with a photo of this,” I say and nod in their direction. “It’s not that strong like a kiss but it’s still something. I could hardly photoshop it, so maybe it’s enough as proof for Agatha.”

 “Too sad that I won’t give you back your phone for the rest of the day.” Baz sneers and starts typing something on my phone while Simon is actually sleeping in his arm. Damn it, this would’ve been a beautiful photo.

 “What are you doing?” I ask him and try again to get my mobile back.

 “Writing Wellbelove.”

 “ **Give it to me!** ”

 “Won’t work. My spell made me take possession of it. Magic-proof.”

 “Basil, give it to me!” I say again, this time without magic but with a raised voice. “I’m serious!”

 “It’s only serious if you use all three syllables.”

 “ _Basilton!_ ”

 “Shh,” he hushes me, still typing. “Don’t wake our Chosen One.”

 “Oh, come on, Baz,” I slip from my bench and go around the table to grab my phone out of his hands. But he holds it too tight so we skirmish a few seconds over it until we almost break our plates and wake up Simon out of his brief nap. He sighs and rips my phone out of our hands. It only works because none of us has suspected it. Blinking he stares at the display. Baz tries to get it back but Simon turns around to read the text he has written. His eyes get wide and he starts laughing.

 “Shit Baz, you can’t write this to _Agatha!”_ he says in disbelief, his eyes flickering over the lines. I lean forward, over Baz’s head and try to read it but he shoves me away.

 “Tell me, Simon,” I say and move back to my place. “What did he write?”

 He just shakes his head. “I have to delete this. Sorry, Baz.”

 “Snow, no!” Baz pulls on his arm but Simon already pressed the delete button.

 “Too late.” He turns back to Baz who makes a pout and hands me back my phone. “Here, Pen. You should better keep it under lock and key.”

 “Thanks,” I mutter and throw it back into my pocket. “I bet you won’t tell me what he wrote, will you?”

 “For your own good, no. Sorry.”

 “You have to admit that it would’ve been priceless to see Agatha’s face reading this,” Baz says grinning.

 “Yeah, but you wouldn’t have seen her face even if I’d send it, so…” Simon takes his place at Baz’s shoulder again, his gaze sleepy and glassy.

 “Okay, but even the thought would’ve been hilarious.”

 “Maybe we should pay now,” I say. “This air doesn’t do us any good. We all start acting like we’re twelve.”

 “I don’t know what you mean,” Baz says. “Isn’t that your actual age?”

 “Alright, I’ll go and get the check.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Simon**

 

It got even colder, I bet. And it started snowing again. Normally, I love snow but right now it’s just cold. Too cold.

 “Do we go home now?” I shout to Penny and Baz, who stand a few metres away from me because they _have to discuss something_ without me. “It’s already getting dark and I’m tired!”

 I’m aware that I probably sound like a grouchy child, but I couldn’t care less.

 “Not until we had the big finale of the day, Snow,” Baz shouts back to me before he starts whispering with Penelope again. They laugh and squint at me several times and it pisses me off. I sit on a bench, not far away from the pub we left ten minutes ago. I was in a good mood. Really. Me, Simon – in a good mood on a bad day! But this was when I was half sleeping on a warm comfy seat. Now I’m just freezing and exhausted and sit alone on some hard bench on the roadside in Camden Town while crowds of strange human-beings run around me. Everything smells like food and smoke and there were a few people who wanted to sell me some ugly bracelets or postcards of London. Of course, I rejected – what didn’t delight them. And the fact that Baz and Penny plan a surprise or something like that doesn’t make it any better. I had enough surprises for today.

 When they finally come back to me – both grinning like a madman (or madwoman in Penny’s case) – I’m fully covered with snow and nearly frozen to death. (Okay, maybe I’m a bit overdramatic, but still. It’s _so_ cold!)

 “If you two really want to surprise me – in a good way – then please order a cab which drives us home,” I say when Penny sits down next to me. She places her backpack on her lap and sighs.

 “Simon,” she says and leans against me. It’s a challenge not to fall over – that’s how stiff I’m already frozen. “I’m not carrying around this bag the whole day, and do not even use its contents only because you are a grinch.”

 “I thought you carry our shopping stuff in there,” I mutter. It’s not a very big bag, but she spoke it all tiny so it would fit.

 “Yeah but that’s not all,” Penny says. “There’s one last stop we have to make. It’ll be fun!”

 I groan. I don’t need fun. I need my warm bed and sleep.

 “Come on, you can do this, Snow,” Baz says smiling. He’s standing in front of me (because the bench is too small for the three of us) and ties his hair to a bun. He doesn’t do this very often, even when I always tell him that I like it. A lot.

 “I’m just –,” I start but I get interrupted by a loud honk. Penny and I turn around and stare at a cab which stopped right behind us. The window opens and a kind-looking cabdriver shouts: “Do you need a ride?”

 I turn back and grin at Baz and Penny. “I call shotgun!”

 

A minute later, I sit in the front seat of the cab with Penny’s backpack on my lap. (This was the compromise because the backseat is very small. And I always get sick when I ride in the back.)  I don’t exactly know where we are driving at, but I know it’s somewhere near the Thames. I try to peek at Baz behind me but the cab is so tiny, I can barely move. The driver watches me strangely, so I decide to give it up and stare out of the window. Only two minutes later, Baz and Penny are in a vivid discussion about the possible shadiness of the pub we were in before. _Again_.

 “There are tons of places with this kind of service system in America,” Penny says. “And I’m sure they don’t all drug their guests.”

 “How do you know?” Baz replies. “It’s not like you’re a reliable source. How often have you been in America? Four times?”

 “If I was on drugs, I bet I wouldn’t feel this tired and miserable right now.” I turn around to look at them and almost dislocate my neck. “So, end of discussion.”

 “You’re always tired and miserable, Snow. Even on drugs.”  
 “I’ve never been on drugs! And I’m not always –”

 “Five times, actually,” Penelope interrupts me.

 “What?!” Baz and I ask at the time. “I’ve never been on drugs, Pen!” I go on.

 “I’ve been _five times_ in America I mean, you morons,” Penny says and rolls her eyes. “Every summer since I met Micah. And he should know. _And_ he wouldn’t have shown me these pubs if there actually was a suspicion of drug abuse.”

 “Sure?” Baz asks and without even looking, I can see the glance Penny shoots at him.

 “When he will visit us next month, you really should be careful what you’re saying,” Penny says. “He’s not that little anymore.”

 “We’ll see…” He hesitates a second. “Wait, Micah will visit us next month? _Here?_ In London? _In_ _our flat?_ Did you know that, Simon?”

 “Yup,” I say while I stare at the streetlights passing us.

 “Why didn’t you tell me?”

 “I did tell you!” Penny responds. “And it’s not _our_ flat…actually.”

 I can literally hear Baz rolling his eyes.

 “And,” she goes on, “you’ll welcome him. He’s really excited to meet you two.”

 “But will he live in our flat?” Baz asks alarmed, ignoring Penny’s point.  

 “Of course. Where else should he stay?”

 “I don’t know. But the flat is too small for the four of us.”  
 “Yeah well, it’s not like you haven’t one on your own.”

 Baz just snorts and a grin flashes over my face. But it doesn’t change my mood. I’m still so not up to for this last stop and this shitty cab hasn’t even a working heating.

 “Will you tell me where we’re heading at?” I ask but before the cab driver can answer, Penny cuts him off.

 “No,” she shouts to me, then she turns back to Baz. “You can’t really demand that my boyfriend has to search for his own place to stay when I have a perfectly appropriate flat. And it’s not like I have ever complained to Simon about you hanging around there all the time.”

 I clear my throat.

 “Oh, come on! I’ve never thrown him out or something like that,” Penny moans. “Anyway, Micah will stay with me. Whether you like it or not, Basil!”


	11. Chapter 11

****

**Penelope**

I _did_ tell him. I’ve told him several times. Even when I’m not obligated to tell _him_. I could throw a party in my flat and don’t have to ask for his permission. Because it’s not his flat. Even when he tends to forget about it.

 “How long will he stay in the first place?” Baz asks now with crossed arms and without looking at me.

 “As long as he needs to,” I answer. “He wants to look for universities. This takes a while.”

 “So, he will move to London eventually? In our flat?”

 “It’s not …” I sigh. “Maybe. I don’t know what the future will bring, but it’s possible.”

 “Have you ever met this guy, Snow?” Baz asks and leans forward to talk to Simon, who sits in front of him. “I mean besides when he visited our school in third year?”

 “What?” Simon asks abstractedly and turns his head to Baz, who pokes his shoulder to get his attention.

 “He hasn’t met him since,” I answer instead. “But Micah always enquires about Simon. And about you too, sometimes.”

 “Ah,” Baz says and leans back. “So you share the details of our relationship with him, too.”

 “Of course, I do. I practically live with you two, so of course, I tell him what I’m going through all day.” And he’s the only one I can complain to about them. (Which is sometimes inevitable.)

 “Wow”, Baz sneers. “First Agatha. Now Micah. It won’t be long until whole America is _SnowBaz_ shipper.”

 

 

**Simon**

 

 “Are the two of them always like that?” The cab driver smiles at me as we stop at a red traffic light. He has short brown hair which is getting grey at his temples and there are some deep shadows under his eyes, but all in all, he looks nice.

 “Yes”, I say nodding. “Sometimes I ask myself if they are related. They fight like siblings.”

 The man laughs. “My sister and I were the same. We couldn’t sit next to each other without breaking into a squabble. Do you have any siblings?”

 “No”, I answer. On the backseat, Baz and Penny start discussing the legitimate owners of our flat again. (Baz thinks he owns at least a quarter. Penny doesn’t agree.) “But I have Penelope.” I point at Penny. “And she’s almost like a sister, so…”

 “Sounds like a lot of fun is going on in your apartment. It’s always nice to have people around who feel like family.” The driver accelerates the cab and turns left. (The road is completely empty. I’ve never been here before.)

 “Yeah,” I say and smile a bit. “I guess it is.”

 I glance at the review mirror to take a look at my friends – my family. It’s small but bigger than I ever thought…

                                                             

 

**Penelope**

 

“It’s not like you’re better”, Baz says. “You always forget to make the dishes. Or to vacuum. Even when you could just use your ring.”

 “Yeah, because we agreed at the beginning to be…well, you know…more _Normal_ ,” I argue.

 “But _Normal_ doesn’t mean to live in your own rubbish.”

 “Now you’re exaggerating.”

 “Smoke and mirrors!” Simon yells, completely out of sudden.

 “What’s happened, Snow?”, Baz asks confused. He turns around to us – his face all pale. The cab driver watches him frowning and asks if he’s okay. He just nods and stares at me and Baz.

 “I just…It’s just…”, he stammers. I wrinkle my forehead at him. He opens his mouth again and tries to find the right words.

 “Are you alright, Simon?”, I ask.

 “What? Yes. Of course. I’m perfect.” He starts rumbling through the backpack on his lap.

  _Something’s wrong_.

 

 

**Simon**

 

I’m without magic. How am I supposed to solve this without my magic? But then I remember something.

 I never used my magic in situations like this.

 

 

**Baz**

 

 “What are you searching for?” I ask. “What’s wrong, Simon?”

 “Do you feel sick? Do you want me to pull over?” the driver asks him.

 “Smoke and _mirrors_ ”, Simon mumbles again. But so softly this time that I’m the only one who can hear it.

Because I’m the only one who’s supposed to hear it.

 

 

**Simon**

 

I never used my magic in situations like this.

I used my sword.

 

 

**Penelope**

 

Baz squints to the review mirror.

 

 

**Baz**

 

 **“Smoke and Mirrors!”** I speak.

 

 

**Simon**

 

I grip for the first hard and kind of sharp thing I can find in Pen’s bag.

I use the second of confusion and distraction when the cab driver transforms back into his real form. Then, without even looking at my weapon, I ram it into his neck.

 

 

**Penelope**

 

I pull the handbrake.

 

 

**Simon**

 

Screeching tyres. The green-skinned head of the goblin falling to the ground. Blood spreading all over me.

 

 

**Penelope**

 

“ _Fuck!_ ”, I scream. “Fuck a nine-toed troll!” I rip the door open and jump out of the car. “I mean _what the bleeding hell?!_ Have they still not elected their _fucking king?!_ Are they still after your head, Simon?!”

 I pull the drivers door open and the dead body of the goblin falls against me. (Headless.) I kick it away and reach for the head which is still laying on the seat. His red lips are curled into a grim pout, his eyes staring at me. If he wasn’t…well…that decapitated, I would be afraid that he would snatch at me.

 “How did he find us? And… shit, don’t they know that you aren’t the Chosen One anymore?” I throw the head to the ground and look at Simon, who still sits on his seat and stares at his improvised weapon in his hands.

 “For Christ sake,” he mumbles. “what _is_ that?”

 Faster then I can look, Baz pushes his door open and even in the same second, he’s kneeling next to Simon.

 “Aleister Crowley! Are you alright?”, he asks and scans Simon from top to toe, who’s all covered in blood but I’m pretty sure it’s not his.

 “Yeah”, he answers and climbs out of the door. Baz helps him to get on his feet but he isn’t swaying. If anything, he seems even calmer than a minute ago. He wants to run around the car, probably to look at the goblin, but Baz holds him back – clutching his shoulders, scanning him again in the shine of the headlights.

 “Are you sure you’re okay?”, he asks a second time.

 “I’m fine, Baz. Nothing happened.”

 “We just made an emergency stop and you killed a bloody goblin with a… what is that anyway?”

 I step next to them, whisper a small **Get Well Soon** at Simon –  just in case – and look at the thing in Simon’s hands. He inspects it but can’t identify it because of all the blood it’s covered with.

 “Snakes alive, Simon,” I say. “You just killed a goblin with a shrunken ice skate!”

 “A _what?_ ” Simon asks in disbelief and turns to me. Baz lets go of him and crouches next to the head of the goblin.

 “Shit, Snow,” Baz says and pokes with his finger into the cheek of the dead goblin. “You’re a killing machine!”

 “Why do you have a _shrunken ice skate_ in your backpack, Penny?” Simon asks confused, holding the small shoe in front of his face.

 “What do you think?” I say. “So, you could decapitate a goblin with it, of course.”

 “How did you even manage that?” Baz asks as he eyes the throat of the devil. “Such a neat cut with this dull skid?”

 “I just did,” Simon says shrugging and kneels next to him. “I just imagined it was my sword. All I had to do was to cut.”


	12. Chapter 12

**Simon**

 

It’s the truth, actually. When I first realized the cabdrivers real face – when I saw it in the review mirror, I didn’t know what to do. I had no wand – no magic to defend myself. And I couldn’t just tell Penny and Baz what I knew. The goblin would’ve killed me immediately. (I still wonder why he didn’t hunch that I knew his real identity when I gave this small yelp. Maybe he was a dumb devil.) (Or I was just a really good actor in overplaying it.) (I’m sure it was the latter.)

 I didn’t actually mean Baz to speak an unmasking spell. I just wanted him to look into the mirror and see what I saw. But it gave me valuable seconds to catch the goblin unprepared. Then I just did what I always did. Using a blade instead of a wand.

 “Do you think he followed us from the pub?” Penny asks me even when she already knows that she’s probably right. “That they haven’t found you all this time because you weren’t near magic and now you were and boom! – this poor thing saw his chance to become king?”

 “I guess,” I mumble. “He must have recognized me as the Chosen One.”

 “But…but why?” Baz chews on his bottom lip. “It’s not like you’re…you know…the greatest magician of the world anymore…”

 “I don’t know…” I shrug. “Maybe it’s like you said, Pen. They’re still after my head because they need a king. Maybe this policy never changed.”

 “So, they’re just bad at democracy?” Penny snorts. “Someone should take pity and help them to rearrange their social system.”

 “Someone should herd them together and slaughter them all,” Baz says and gets up again. “It’s not like Simon has always an ice skate he can use to fight them.”

 “I should probably tell my dad about this incident. Maybe he has an idea how we can protect you from following attacks.” Penny casts the body of the goblin away and speaks my clothes clean. I can see how Baz automatically exhales. I know that all this blood makes him tense, even when he doesn’t show it. He reaches for my hands and helps me up again. I kind of slump against him because my legs are a bit wobbly.

 “He got a vampire on his side”, he says and puts one arm around my waist to steady me. “I guess that’s a pretty good protection.”

 “I don’t really think they will come after you”, Penny suggests. “They remained silent for over one year and it didn’t seem like this friend here,” she points at the green head which is still laying on the street, “had a big army behind his back. His competitors will probably never know about the retrieval of the lost Chosen One.” She **Into Thin Air** ’s the head before she goes on. “But we should be careful anyway. Maybe there is a spell or magickal relic which hides you from these devils.”

 “I wish I just could have my sword back,” I mutter yawning. “This would make things easier.”

 “But you can’t run around with a sword, Simon,” Penny says and smiles sadly.

 “I know.”

  She squeezes my hand, then she sighs and hugs me stormily. It makes me stumble against Baz who is standing right behind me.

 “Don’t think I will join this”, Baz grumbles and steps back with raised hands.

 “Come on, Baz,” Penelope says somewhere behind my ear. “We all know you love hugs.”

 “I do?”

 “I can confirm this,” I mumble while the wind blows Penny’s hair in my face. (It smells like sage tea.)

 “Well, I’m not into family hugs in the middle of nowhere,” Baz says sniffing. “Where the hell are we after all?”

 Penny sighs and lets go of me. I turn around and try to identify the environment. We’re in a very dark street – all streetlights are missing. The only lights come from the headlights of the car. It creepily illuminates the ruins of some old townhouses around us which are buried under a blanket of snow. The windows are broken and the entrance doors are missing. Sinister shadows hide behind the doorways and windowsills.

 It never means something good if someone drives you here in the middle of the night. Or even in the early evening. This is the place where murders happen.

 “Do we drive home now?” I ask and sit down on the bonnet of the cab. “Before it starts snowing again?”

 “We still didn’t make our last stop,” Penny says and winks at me.

 “Are you serious?” I ask, disbelieving her persistence about this stupid last stop. “We just had a crash and I fought a bloody goblin. I’m really fed up with surprises for today.”

 “I have to admit that he’s got a point there…” Baz mutters and sits down next to me on the car. “I wouldn’t mind if –”

 “Are you kidding me?” Penny steps in front of us, her hands on her hips. “Just a while ago stuff like this was completely commonplace for you. You fought a dragon before breakfast and killed any kind of dark creatures in a blink. You literally said – just a minute ago – that nothing happened. So, don’t act like this is too overwhelming for you now.” She gives me one of her _Don’t be like this, Simon_ looks. “And you,” she points at Baz, “you can’t ditch now. We planned this together so now we gonna see it through to the finish! End of discussion.” She walks around the car and takes place at the driver’s seat. She starts honking. (Did she just steal the cab?)

 “I don’t think we have a choice,” Baz says and slips off the car.

 “I’m pretty sure we haven’t.” Baz pulls me back on my feet and without hiding a loud yawn, I stumble back into the car.

 

 

**Penelope**

 

“ _Wow,_ isn’t that awesome?” Simon mutters in a very _Baz-ish_ way as he gets out of the car. “An old, abandoned pier.” He wrinkles his nose and wraps his arms around his torso because he’s already freezing again. “Do we go midnight swimming? Or fishing? Oh, I’m sorry, but I forgot my fishing rod. Maybe we rather should head home.”

 I want to throw a snowball right into his face because he can’t stop moaning for one bleeding minute, but instead, I play nice and speak a **“You’re getting warmer!”** at him, which I hope will make him less grumpy.

 Simon mumbles something which could be a _thank you_ before he walks to the head of the floating walkway. And because Baz isn’t any great help anymore either and is now mocking Simon by acting like he wants to push him into the water, I’m the only one who tries to organize this whole thing here. I take my backpack from the backseat, then I search for the piece of paper where I wrote down the spell I need. But then, suddenly, I hear Simon scream and a loud splash. I turn around and try to make out what happened but its too dark. So, I shoulder my bag and run down the pier.

 The following scene shouldn’t surprise me, I’ve witnessed a lot, but seriously… You can’t let them alone for one fucking minute.

 Baz is kneeling at the edge of the walkway and shouts out one apology after the next while Simon is floating in the dark water. (It’s January. Something around 30 degrees.)

 “Shit, Simon. I…I really didn’t mean to”, Baz stutters and reaches with his hands for him.  “I’m _so_ sorry! I … I shouldn’t have…”

 All I can see of Simon is his head which is floating two metres away from the pier. He’s completely silent and doesn’t even try to get out or starts panicking. I can’t see his facial expressions because it’s too dark but I’m pretty sure that this gave him the rest. And Baz seems to be aware of it too, because he looks so sorrowful and guilty that I almost forget his lack of maturity which led to this disaster in the first place.

 “You didn’t throw him into the water…” I say and state herby the obvious.

 “I didn’t…I would never… I was just teasing”, Baz mumbles, with one hand tearing his hair, with the other still reaching for Simon.

 “Are you okay, Simon?” I crouch next to Baz and let my ring glow so I can see his face. “You have to get out of the water. You’ll get sick.”

 But Simon doesn’t even react. He just swims to us and grabs for Baz’s hand. His arm is shaking like mad and Baz wants to pull him out of the water, but Simon surprises him by pulling at his wrist and makes him tumble. Baz doesn’t even give a yelp as he splashes into the cold.      

 “Merlin!” I scream and jump back as quickly as I can – afraid to get pulled into the water, too.

 As Baz’s head pops up again and he gasps for air, shivering because of the icy water, Simon grabs for his shoulders. “Of course, you would!” he shouts at him. “You pushed me down these bloody stairs, so of course you would throw me into this fucking river. You can’t fool me, Baz!”

 For a moment I think he starts crying because his face is twitching but then he bursts out into laughter. Baz seems as surprised as me and holds on to his arms to keep him from drowning.

 “Merlin, you are so …” Simon keeps laughing and drifts closer to Baz. Then (to mine and Baz’s surprise) he tries kissing him but apparently, that’s not so easy when you’re floating in water and are nearly frozen to icicles.

 “Okay, darling,” Baz says and tries to shove him back, directing him to the pier. “We really should get you out of here.”

 “I’ve never been so cold,” Simon laughs (or cries) while Baz leads him back to the walkway. “God, this day couldn’t get any worse.”

 I reach for his arm as he is close enough and pull him onto the wood. He collapses next to me – laying on his back, still giggling and whining at once. Baz crawls out of the water too and falls down next to him. Now he starts laughing, too. They are both dripping like wet dogs and around them emerges a huge puddle which moistens my boots.

 “Crowley, it’s so fucking cold. I’m not sure if all my limbs are still alive.”

 “You deserved it,” Simon says and coughs out some water.

 “I deserved it,” Baz agrees nodding while he fumbles at his jacket. “Shit, I think I lost my wand in there…”

 “You two are such idiots,” I say, still not believing what I just saw. “I don’t know why I deserved to deal with this.”

 This makes them just giggle again which ends in desperate coughing.

 “I’m seriously considering if I don’t spell you dry, so you both will get sick and learn from your incredible thickness. I mean, seriously…throwing each other into the Thames in the middle of winter?! What’s wrong with you?”

 “I can’t get sick and you won’t give Simon a reason to skip the first days of Uni, so let’s just get over it.” Baz lifts himself up and helps Simon on his knees, too. Their hair is dripping and their fingers are so stiff that it almost hurts to see what effort it costs Baz to take Simon’s hand and kiss his frozen knuckles.

 “I’m sorry,” he says again.

 “I forgive you. I got my revenge.” Simon’s lips are trembling and his hand is shaking in Baz’s (or Baz’s is shaking in his) and just the sight of them is giving me chills, so my pity wins and I speak a quick **“Dry off!”** at both of them.

 “Promise me that you’ll never do something like this again,” I say as I help them back on their feet.

 “Promise,” Baz replies while he rearranges his coat and hair. “But only when you speak my wand out of the water. And when you give up this shitty evidence-photo.”

 “Deal.”


	13. Chapter 13

**Baz**

 

 I really didn’t mean to throw him into the river. _Really_. I just wanted to mock him. (Maybe I should’ve known that he’s so clumsy and will fall anyway, but still.)

 “I think I just forgot how it feels to be warm,” Simon says now, standing in front of me and bouncing up and down. “Do I still have all my fingers?”

 He holds his hands in front of me and I take them in mine, a sad try to warm them because I’m as cold as he is. I even try to use my Pyro skills to heat them up a bit but it doesn’t really work because I’m too afraid of burning his palms.

 “Come on, Bunce,” I say without turning to her. “Give my wand back to me, so I can speak us warm.”

 “Nah,” she says, twirling my wand between her fingers. (I would snap it away but I’m too frozen stiff so it only would end sadly for me.) “I’ll let you suffer for at least the following five minutes so you’ll learn your lesson.”

 “Believe me,” Simon says, shivering. “I learned mine. ‘Never stand close to water when your _ex-nemesis-slash-ruthless-boyfriend_ stands next to you.’”

 “I really didn’t mean to –”

 “Yeah, you can repeat this until we both grew old and grey but I know you better.” Simon grins at me and the cold must’ve frozen the part of his brain that stored all the worries which haunted him today, because his smile is through and through the old Simon – the happy-go-lucky one I missed the last hours. I grin back. (Maybe I _did_ push him intentionally after all. I would do anything for this smile.)

 “Meanwhile you sit out your punishment, you could guess why we’re here anyway, Simon,” Bunce says.

 “Because you two want to torture me?”

 “ _I_ didn’t throw you into the water,” she defends herself and frowns at me. I frown back.

 “Yeah but you let me freeze to death right now,” Simon says with clattering teeth.

 I let go of Simon’s hands and light a flame in each of my palms. I place them between our faces, just so that the fire doesn’t reach his or my skin.

 “Better?” I ask.

 “I’m worried about my eyebrows,” he mumbles, trying not to move his head while speaking.

 I sneer and let the flames dance between my fingers which makes Simon jump, covering his eyes with his hands. “Watch out, Baz!”

 “We wouldn’t have to put us in such danger, if Bunce just –”

 “Okay,” Bunce says and claps her hands together. “I will speak you warm when Simon guesses why we’re here. Okay?”

 I open my lips to whisper the answer to help Simon and free us from our misery, but Penelope presses her hand on my mouth to make me shut up. “No cheating!”

 “How should I know?” Simon complains. “There’s nothing interesting we could do at this pier…”

 “Come on, Simon,” Bunce groans. “Use your brain.”

 He just looks confused from her to me, while I try to pantomime it at him.

 Then his eyes get big and he opens his mouth. (His lips are still blue.)  “ _Oh_ ,” he cries out and hides his face behind his trembling fingers like an ashamed child. “Why didn’t I come up with this earlier? Damn it, I’m so dumb.”

 I stop myself from saying anything agreeing, instead I snap my wand out of Penelope’s hand and speak two **You’re getting warmer** ’s.

 “Merlin and Morgana and Methuselah!” Simon shouts and exhales. “I feel like reborn!”

 

 

**Simon**

                        

“But we got no layer of ice,” I say. “I just proofed that, believe me. No ice.”

 “It exists something called _magic_ ,” Penny says. “Ever heard of that?”

 I decide to say nothing to this.

**“As cold as ice!”** , Penny speaks, holding her hand above the water. A very thin layer of ice spreads over the surface and covers maybe five square metres. It’s a sad sight.

 “Well, this won’t work,” Baz says and taps with the tip of his shoe on the ice which makes it break. “How about a **Let it go**?”

 “Hell, no,” Penny says and speaks **As cold as ice** a second time but it doesn’t really make it better.

 “You mean **Let it go** like…from _Frozen_?” I ask frowning. I didn’t know that Baz even knows that Disney exists.

 “Spells like this don’t really work,” Penny explains while she tests the ice again. “As soon as the movie is out of the cinemas, the magic of it vanishes.”

 “Yeah, but that’s _Frozen_ ,” Baz says and pulls out his wand. “The hype about this Elsa crap never ends.”

 “But I didn’t watch the film, so it won’t work.”

 “But I did.”

 “Wait.” Grinning, I turn to Baz. “ _You_ saw _Frozen_? I mean, I saw it too but only because Agatha forced me once to watch it with her.”

 Baz raises his hands innocently. “I got three little sisters, okay? They played it in a continuous loop for almost two years. I had no choice.”

 “It’s okay to be a fan of Disney and to be a boy,” Penny says, teasing. “You don’t have to hide your love for Elsa, Basil.”

If looks could kill, Penny would be more than dead right now.

 “I don’t _have_ to speak the river frozen,” Baz says and throws his wand up in the air and catches it again. “It’s not like I’m into this figure skating stuff – this was your idea. How did you even come up with this shit?”

 “I just found our old pairs of skates in Dad’s garage,” Penny says. “Simon and I did it once when we were kids –”

 “We did?”

 “Yes. And you loved it.”

 “I did?”

 “How old was he?” Baz asks smirking, catching his wand again.

 “Around twelve I think”, Penny says. I still don’t remember what she’s talking about. I never wore ice skates, did I?

 Baz laughs. “Just imagine this little, clumsy Snow trying to keep his balance on ice. Wrapped in a way to huge coat and scarf. Isn’t that adorable?”

 “I bet you watched me and plotted how to make me fall in the most hurtful way,” I say and catch his wand as he throws it up again, because it’s driving me crazy.

 “Nah,” Penny responds and rips open her backpack. “I’m pretty sure he watched you with heart eyes, thinking about how beautiful and graceful you were.”

 “Got me there, Bunce.”

 “I still don’t remember that we ever did ice skating at Watford,” I say, fiddling with Baz’s wand. It’s still a bit damp because of its little dive.

 “During our second year, they froze the moat which was a highlight for all students. But a dozen kids broke their legs or noses so the Mage forbit it for the next years,” Penelope says as she hands me a pair of brown skates. I swear, I’ve never seen them before.

 “As soon as you do your first step in them, you will remember how it works.” Penny sounds way more confident then I feel.

 “I wouldn’t count on that,” I mumble and sit down on the wood to get into the shoes. Penny spoke them into the right size again, so they fit perfectly.

 “Come on, Baz,” Pen says as she got in her shoes, sitting on the edge of the walkway and swinging with her feet. “Be Elsa.”

 “Be careful what you say, otherwise the ice will break under your feet, completely by accident of course. And believe me, it’s colder down there than a witch’s wit.” Baz, who still hasn’t touched his skates, takes his wand back from me and steps to the head of the pier. He raises both his arms and speaks with his full lungs: **“Let it go!”** From under his feet spread a thousand ice crystals in all directions and dance over the surface where they freeze the waves into a perfectly smooth ice rink. It looks so magickal and beautiful that I fail in tying my left shoe, because I can’t take my eyes from that growing ice crystal.

 “Wow,” I say and try to get up what isn’t that easy with skids under your feet. I manage to kind of slide and walk to Baz but I have to hold on to his shoulder so I don’t fall right over the edge. “This was awesome!”

 “Don’t you dare to say anything about Disney princesses,” he sneers at me.

 “I never would.”

 “Who is first at the other side of the shore!” Penny shouts and flies past us, already gliding over the frozen surface.

 “I still don’t see the point,” I say while I get onto my knees to swing my feet over the edge of the swimming walkway. “I mean, why Ice Skating? There are plenty of things we could do in London and we slide over some magickal ice rink in some abandoned neighbourhood?”

 “Penny’s idea. Not mine,” Baz says as he helps me to climb onto the ice. I cling to his arm while I try to find balance on my skates.

 “Good?” he asks and I nod, so he lets go of me. I tumble a bit, waggling my arms to stay on my feet. I try to drive in a straight line but end up in an uneven circle. Penny rushes to me and catches my hands. Laughing she pulls me with her and within seconds I’m as fast as she is. When she lets go of my hands I nearly fall but, in some way, I manage it to catch my balance again and do my own steps. And I have to admit, it’s actually easier than I thought it would be. Maybe I really did it before.

 After I drove a few circles and eights with Penny – a bit wobbly but without falling (except once) – I drive back to Baz, who’s still standing on the walkway, watching us with his hands buried in his pockets. He almost looks kind of magickal, standing there on the head of the pier. His skin kinda glowing in the dark. Surrounded by the glittering ice.

 “You should try it, too,” I say as I brake in front of him. “It’s actually pretty much fun.” The walkway floats a few feet above the water so I have to look up at him. (More up than I normally have to, I mean.)

 “It’s also fun to watch you, kids,” he says, brushing a wisp of hair out of his face. “It’s almost like time travelling.”

 “Simon, look!” Penny screams from behind me and I turn around to watch her pirouette. She does it a second and a third time but then she falls onto her butt. But she gets up laughing right away and tries it again.

 “I doubt that she just brought those skates to make _you_ a surprise,” Baz says, watching Penny’s dance. “That’s totally her thing.”

 “Maybe it’s yours, too,” I say and pull at his arm. “Just give it a try.”

 “I’m not –”

 “It’s my day, remember?” I sneer at him. “We do whatever makes me happy – your words.”

 “I didn’t say this.”

 “Well, something like that.”

 “So, dancing with me over a layer of ice on the Thames underneath a thousand of stars – pretending it’s not the cheesiest thing ever – is what makes you happy?”

 “I never said anything about dancing, but okay.” I grin at him, then I look up, recognizing the clear sky the first time. “C’mon, Baz. Dance with me.”

 “You can’t dance, Snow. Even less on ice.”

 “Then no dancing, just driving.”

 “I don’t fit into the shoes.”

 “Use your wand, dumbass.”

 This makes him laugh. “Okay. Okay. I surrender.” He leans forward and kisses me on my hair, then he pulls the third pair of shoes out of Pen’s bag.

 “You persuaded grumpy Elsa to come on ice?” Penny says as she stops next to me, nearly making me fall because of her momentum.

 “I’m a pro when it comes to persuading princesses,” I respond and start into the rotation Penny is pulling me into.

 “I can hear you,” Baz mutters while he ties his shoelaces. “And you’re standing on thin ice. Literally.”

 “Did you hear something?” Penny says, still holding both of my hands and turning me around.

 “Nope,” I say and shake my head. “Must have been the wind.”

 “Always enjoying your company.” Baz jumps gracefully next to us, sliding over the ice like he’s floating. He has probably never been in ice skates ever before but already masters it like a figure skating star. (Why do I even wonder? It’s _Baz_.)

 “So, do I get my promised dance now?” he asks and races around us. I let go of Penny, who starts pirouetting right again, and grab for Baz’s hands. As soon as I hold on to him, he pulls me into his smooth rhythm and together we fly over the surface.

 “Admit it: it’s fun,” I say as he swirls me into a spin.

 “It’s pretty okay,” he replies shrugging but he can’t hide the grin which crooks his lips.

 “Yeah, you’re right,” I say, nodding approvingly. “There are worse but also way funnier things than this. Just imagine how nice a dinner with your parents would be now. Or cooking a Pre-Christmas meal.”   

 The smile wins over Baz’s face now. “By the way, did Bunce really assigned us for this course?” he asks and slows down a bit.

 “I guess.”

 “You guess?”

 “I don’t know. She hasn’t mentioned it again so far. You can ask her.”

 “Crowley, no. I won’t remember her of this stupid couple cooking thing. Maybe she will just let it go and we can live happily ever after.” He turns his neck to watch out for her but Penny is still turning her pirouettes. She gets better over time.

 “I still think we should do it,” I say and grin at him. “Sometimes things are fun even when you don’t assume they will.”

 “Yeah…nope. You can’t persuade me into this one, too. Sorry, Snow.” He holds both of my hands and pulls me from one spin into the next. I’m already getting a bit dizzy. 

 “Could you stop spinning for a second?” I say and let go of one of his hands to hold my head. “I’m getting a headache.”

 “Poor kid,” Baz teases me and his skates shred over the ice to make us stop abruptly. It makes me tumble against him – which probably wasn’t unintentionally. He wraps both of his arms around my waist.

 “Better?” he asks, kissing my aching forehead.

 “Could be worse.”

 Baz grins and kisses me on my lips. “Now?”

 “Are you sure we stopped spinning around?” I whisper grinning. I feel his smile on my lips as he kisses me again. I kiss him back –  a bit too stormy – and make us stumble backwards. Baz tries to catch his balance again, but the ice is so slippery – we are already losing ground. From one second to the other, we’re laying on the ice. Baz on his back, still holding me in his arms. We’re both giggling.

 “This was on purpose,” I say.

 “Of course, it was.” Baz pulls me closer, so my face is hanging over his. His bun has loosened itself and I brush his hair out of his eyes. My lips touch his again and because my eyelids are closed, I realise the bright flashlight catching us too late.

 “Well, that’s a beautiful picture!” Penny’s voice tears us apart.

 “You didn’t!” Baz yells and sits up so promptly that he almost rams his nose against mine. Penny grins, standing over us and holds up her phone, showing a photo of us falling to the ground.

 “You delete this,” Baz says, while I still sit on his lap watching kind of fascinated the photo Penny took of us. (She shot us right in the second we were floating over the ground, still kissing. How did we even manage that?)

 “You won’t send this to Agatha,” I say.

 “I already did,” Penny says, grinning so broadly that I see all her teeth which shine brightly in the dark. “It’s perfect! You two tumbling around and kissing on an icefield, the stars shimmering in your hair. Not even photoshop could make it any more romantic.”

 “You said you would let it go,” Baz grumbles.

 “Once you said, you hate the boy who is now sitting on your lap, so…” she responds sneering. Baz huffs at her and I know he wants to chase Penny all over the Thames but I won’t let him get up. Penelope crouches down next to us and gives each of us a kiss on the cheek. (Baz reacts with kind of a grunt.)

 “Sometimes you’re the cutest. I love you, boys.” Laughing, she helps us up again. “Ah and by the way. The cooking course starts next week.”


	14. Chapter 14

**Baz**

 

 “Snakes alive!” Simon shouts. “I thought I would never see you again.” He slumps against the entrance door to our – or _his_ (I think we discussed the legitimate owners enough for today) flat while Bunce tries to insert the key into the lock. When the door finally jumps open, Simon tumbles over the doorway and falls to the floor.

 “I stay here,” he mumbles as Bunce and I climb over him. “I will never get up again. _Never_. _Ever_. Nope.”

 “Do you really prefer this hard and cold floor to your warm and comfy bed?” I tease him and throw my scarf into his face what makes him chuckle for some reason.

 “It’s too far away.” He pushes the scarf off him and tears down his hat so his bronze curls crash onto the floor. “I don’t think my legs will ever work again.”

 “How about a hot chocolate?” Penny offers him and gets out of her coat and boots. “Trust me, it can work wonders.”

 “Sounds good,” Simon squeaks from the ground, his eyes already closed.

 “You want a cup too, Baz?” she asks me, already standing in the kitchenette and breaking a chocolate bar into tiny pieces.

 “Maybe I should better head home,” I say, scratching my neck. “I have to get up early. Uni and stuff.”

 “What? No!” Simon complains from beneath me. “You can’t just leave now.”

 “But –”

 “You threw me into the Thames, remember? You should do what I want if you want me to forgive you.” He points at his chest, then at me. “And I want you to stay.”

 “You already forgave me.”

 “Maybe I changed my mind.”

 “Oh, Snow…” I grab his hands to pull him to his feet.

 It’s not that I want to leave, but when I stay for the night – and this is what it will lead to because when Simon once clung to you while falling asleep there’s no escape – I will wake him in the morning and he really, _really_ needs some rest. And I’m not sure if Penny and I could handle another morning like today. Otherwise, I do know that he has fewer nightmares when I’m with him. Or sometimes I can wake him before it gets too bad. Why am I even discussing this? It’s already certain I’m staying.

 “One chocolate for me too, please,” I shout to Bunce and Simon smiles satisfied, already leaning against me again. (How often did I serve him as standing aid today?)

 “Give me two minutes,” Bunce answers while she stirs some milk. It’s starting to smell of chocolate in here. (And a bit burned, if I’m being honest.)

 “Can you carry me to the sofa?” Simon asks me, his head resting with closed eyes on my shoulder.

 “Shoes,” is everything I say. He looks down at his feet and groans.

 “Ugh. I don’t think I can do this…”

 “I believe in you.” I pad his shoulder and shove him farther into the kitchen.

 Sighing, he shuffles to the closest chair and starts – very slowly – unlacing his shoes.  

 

 “You just could have used your ring,” Simon says as Penelope pours him a big cup of (partly burned) hot chocolate. He lingers on the sofa, cuddled in a fluffy blanket since he finally got out of his outdoor clothes.

 “It’s always good to improve your cooking skills,” she answers and places a huge cup in my hands.

 “If you start talking about this course again, I swear I will leave immediately.” I sip on my chocolate. “You can deal with the crying Simon then.”

 “You think one week is enough to convince your princess?” Penny grins gleefully and snuggles next to Simon, fighting for a piece of his blanket. I sit in front of them, cross-legged on the floor, leaning against the coffee table.

 “I will find a way,” Simon answers and smirks into his cup.

 “I doubt that,” I say with raised eyebrows. “By the way, did Wellbelove already respond to the illegally taken picture of us?”

 Bunce pulls out her phone and holds it onto her ear to listen to a voice mail.

 “Hey, I want to hear it, too!” I protest and mimic Simon to take it from her. Before he can even reach for it, Penny sighs and turns on the speaker. Agatha’s shrill voice starts babbling.

 _“That’s_ so _confusing. I mean, you told me._ They _even told me but… I don’t know. I could hardly imagine it. I mean… they were enemies for so long and Baz… I never thought…or Simon… But this – this picture you sent me… I don’t know… It looks_ real _. Like that’s how it belongs or something. If that makes any sense. Anyway. Give them my regards. Maybe I try to call Simon in the next days… Feels like I haven’t really spoken to him for ages… I hope he’s alright. Well, he looks very alright on the photo… Do you really were ice skating? God, I haven’t done this since our first years at Watford. We don’t even have ice here. Anyway, have a good night, Pen.”_

 “Can you show me this photo again?”

 “It’s actually pretty good,” Penny responds and hands me her phone. It’s painful but I have to admit that it’s _really_ pretty good. The light is perfect and we both look so happy while we fly entangled over the ice surface. Within two seconds I send it to myself and delete it immediately from the chat history, so she won’t recognize it. (I grudge Bunce the triumph.) Maybe I will use it as a new background picture.

 “The photo is kinda cute but I still hate you for violating my trust,” I say when I pass the mobile to Simon, who’s already tugging at my sleeve.

 “You are a drama queen,” Bunce says, slurping her drink.

 “You mean, drama _princess_ ,” Simon responds sneery and without looking up he gives Penny a high-five.

 “It kinda feels like you’re allied against me up there,” I mutter and finish my chocolate. (It makes me feel warm and tired but I’m still not _full_. I think I have to go hunting soon.)

 “You can come up here,” Simon says, tapping on the space next to him. “Then we can mock the coffee table together.”

 I laugh and get onto my feet to bring my cup to the sink.

 “While you’re already standing, can you bring me my new jumper?” he asks with flushed cheeks because of the chocolate’s heat. “You know, the blue one.”

 “You mean this fluffy Christmas nightmare?”

 “You said you liked it.”

 “I said it wasn’t that bad.”

 “You see.”

 “I lied.”

 “No, you didn’t.”

 “How do you know?”

 “Just bring him this stupid jumper, Baz,” Bunce chimes in and falls back into the cushions. “I’m too tired for your flirty discussions.”

 “Relax,” I say. “I’m already on my way.”

 I unpack all the clothes we bought today and take Simon’s pullover with me. It’s still tiny because of the spell Bunce spoke to carry them all. I speak a simple **“As you were!”** and it turns back into its normal size.

 “Here you go,” I say and throw it to Snow. He puts aside his cup and pulls the jumper over his (my) hoodie. (How can he still be freezing?) (Well, I guess it’s my fault.)

 “You look like a cotton ball,” I say as I sit down next to him.

 “Like a snowball you mean,” he replies grinning and moves away so he can place his head on my lap. He accidentally hits Bunce with his tail while rearranging his position, who lays on his legs, and makes her yelp.

 “Sorry,” he says and tugs the tail under his thigh. Penny mumbles something into the pillow which lays on top of her face. I’m sure she will fall asleep in the next ten seconds.

 I place my feet on the coffee table and lose my fingers in Simon’s curls. He closes his eyes. “I didn’t mean it by the way,” he whispers softly. “What I said earlier at the Thames. That this day couldn’t get any worse.” He smiles. I can’t describe how much I love this smile…

 I know it isn’t over. I know this is just one day out of many. One of the _bad_ _days_. (I have them, too. Sometimes.)

 They will come and go whenever they want – we can’t change this within a few hours. Maybe it all starts tomorrow right again. Maybe it doesn’t – I don’t know. But we made him smile today. We made him forget for at least a few moments that today is one of the bad days. At least for now. And maybe he will even remember this day as a good one. And this is all that counts.

 “It could have been way worse.” He opens his eyes. “Without you.”


End file.
